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Harry Potter and the Breeding Darkness	By : Danyealle Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 297906 -:- Recommendations : 58 -:- Currently Reading : 185
Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
This chapter is written by: Aya Macchiato

Beta done by tannne and Danyealle-sama

Again, I remind everyone that the amazing Aya Macchiato has given me permission to continue this story for her. This is another of the chapters that she already had done. All I've done with this one is some basic beta work, nothing more, it's as she wrote it!

Link to the first story...

http://hp.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600095391

-Danyealle

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Chapter 5

Things progressed smoothly for several days, slipping back into their newly developing routine. Harry was finding his days extremely busy. He was now attending all of the meetings that Tom scheduled throughout the days, although, at least, there weren't quite as many as in the start of the month. But there was still always at least one meeting a day. Between the meetings, his Arithmancy and Ancient Runes work, the Dark Arts, dueling training that he and Tom still tried to squeeze in for at least a half hour a day as well as frequently getting distracted by being snogged senseless by Tom, Harry was having trouble finding a moment to just lounge around and relax. Not that he really minded.

The pair had actually made use of the Time-Turner a few times just to squeeze in time for Harry's extra lessons.

Harry had received another round of letters the day after the meeting with the Minister at Diagon Alley. The Minister had sent another invitation for tea, this time scheduled for July 23rd at 3 pm. Harry had sent back a quick acceptance letter and a thank you.

He had received another letter from Dumbledore expressing his deep disappointment in Harry's choices and his refusal to return willingly, clearly trying to play on Harry's supposed respect for authority figures as well as his desire for acceptance and approval. Of course, Harry had no such respect for any authority figures and did not in any way desire Dumbledore's approval, so the letter's sentiments only make Harry sneer in disgust. Dumbledore had begged Harry to please reveal his location so that he could be collected and taken somewhere safe. Harry had replied that he was safe, thank you very much, but thanks anyway.

The Weasley's had all sent letters. They were all glad that he really was safe and that he was happy and enjoying his summer for once. The twins informed him that there had been several instances where a group of adults that they mostly didn't recognize, and usually accompanied by Dumbledore himself, were coming to the Burrow then sequestering themselves into the kitchen while all of the kids were shooed off to bed.

The twins, being the twins, didn't take this directive very seriously and had tried on several instances to listen in. The group, it seemed, was called 'The Order', and they seemed to be making plans or something regarding the return of You-Know-Who. They also informed Harry that it sounded like the Weasley family was going to be spending the second half of the summer somewhere besides the Burrow. The Order's new headquarters was apparently in rather bad shape and Mrs. Weasley had volunteered herself and her family to try to fix the place up. There were also plans to improve the wards around the Burrow while the family stayed at this elusive 'headquarters', although nothing had been said to the kids in any official capacity yet. The twins promised updates when they had them.

Harry smirked as he relayed the information to Tom.

On the 14th, the Prophet's front page was plastered with a very large moving photograph of Harry and Tom's alter-ego 'Nick', sharing their parting kiss. The article beneath,' written by a woman named 'Betty Braithwaite' detailed various witness accounts from his and Tom's trip around Diagon Alley then moved onto mention Harry's lengthy tea with the Minister for Magic. Taking up a quarter of the top-half of the front page was a moving photo of Harry and Fudge sitting down at the small round table on the tea house's patio, clearly talking, smiling genially at each other. Every now and then one of them would pick up a scone or a biscuit and eat it, or laugh lightly at something the other had said. Harry wondered if the Minister was annoyed that Harry's love-life had apparently warranted a larger picture and slightly more attention than the fact that Harry was in the alley to meet with the Minister for Magic. He also couldn't get over how ridiculous it was that his love life and afternoon tea was considered front-page news.

The article tried to speculate what that Boy-Who-Lived and winner of the Tri-Wizard Tournament would be doing having tea with the Minister for Magic but they really had no idea so the speculations were all aimless. Clearly Tom had succeeded in preventing Betty Braithwaite from overhearing anything useful. The article actually spent an amusing amount of time speculating on who the mystery boy that Harry had kissed was but it could find no witnesses who had recognized him or had heard Harry refer to him by name.

A number of Tom's recent meetings with his Death Eaters had actually been about recruiting excursions that he was sending certain minions out on. Increasing the number of their ranks was important at this early stage and, so far, it had been going rather well. Harry continued to be both thrilled and mildly bewildered by Tom's behavior. In the meetings he was just as cold, devious, and ruthless, as ever. The man had no hesitation in throwing around torture curses when someone pissed him off, although Harry was finding it harder and harder to refrain from jumping the man when he did such things.

It sometimes made Harry wonder how fucked he become to be intensely aroused by the sight of his lover causing immense pain to others... but quickly shrugged it off, because, honestly, it was fucking hot. The way Voldemort's magic sizzled and tickled at his senses in the most delicious ways when he was getting really into a torture curse was just amazingly tantalizing for him.

But when Tom was just Tom, and the two of them were alone, the older wizard was becoming more and more carefree and flirty with Harry. He'd heard Tom laugh more in the last week than in the entire time he'd known him prior. It was weird but it was also amazing.

The evening of July 17th, Tom and Harry were sitting in the study relaxing after a rather strenuous and full day when they both felt the disruption in the wards as someone Apparated into the manor's entrance hall. Harry glanced over at Tom with a single raised eyebrow, silently asking the Dark Lord if he had any idea who it was. As far as Harry was aware, no one was expected. He could feel cautious curiosity in the back of his head and knew it was coming from the other man.

Tom shook his head, stood to his feet and effortlessly transformed into his Voldemort persona. Harry always wore his ring around the manor, so he didn't have to do anything extra to disguise himself. Voldemort left the study and made his way down the stairs. Harry followed behind at a distance and as he came to the top of the stairs he could see who it was standing below.

It was Jeno Vass, a Ministry wizard who worked for the DMLE and who was currently stationed at Azkaban as a guard. His father and uncle were both Death Eaters, although, fortunately, neither had ever been publicly outed during the last war and Jeno had been brought in about two weeks ago when received his own mark.

Harry stood at the top of the stairs and watched as Jeno knelt low in front of Voldemort, bowing his head almost to the floor. Harry could feel Voldemort's smug satisfaction at the gesture and couldn't help but smirk himself. Jeno stood at Voldemort's beckoning but kept his head bowed as he quickly relayed whatever it was he came to say.

A moment of intrigue, followed by excited anticipation, slipped into the back of Harry's mind. He was growing quite accustomed to this. Tom said that it was a part of the bond. Some sort of shared empathy, which was apparently quite common in soul bonds, thus strengthening the theory that what they shared was, in fact, a soul bond of some sort.

Jeno Vass bowed low again and Voldemort waved his hand in a dismissive manner. A moment later the man was Apparating out of the manor with a crack and Voldemort was beginning to make his way back up the stairs towards Harry.

"So, what's the news?" Harry asked as the bone-pale and serpentine older wizard reached the top of the stairs.

"Vass has succeeded in arranging a meeting with one of the upper echelon dementors of Azkaban."

Harry's eyes widened. "That was fast," Harry exclaimed. Vass had only just been told to approach the dementors two days ago.

"They were apparently quite enthusiastic to learn of my return," Voldemort said smirking. "The meeting is for tonight."

Harry nodded slowly. If he was being honest with himself, he really didn't feel all that comfortable with the idea of Voldemort going to visit the dementors. He knew he was being stupid and that there was nothing to worry about but...

"Harry, I will be fine," Voldemort said, clearly having sensed Harry's apprehension. His hand came up then his long bony fingers threaded through Harry's hair and his palm brushed gently along Harry's cheek.

Harry sighed and nodded. "I know, I know... I'm being stupid. I just... I'm not terribly fond of dementors," he grumbled quietly.

Voldemort chuckled and leaned in, pressing his non-lips to Harry's forehead. "I know, love. But I'll be fine. They were quite faithful to me in the last war. They will not attack me. They are sick of having to answer to the Ministry. They'll be eager to join us."

Harry nodded again and gave the older wizard a reluctant smile.

As it turned out, Voldemort had to leave rather soon in order to make it to the meeting, leaving Harry alone in the manor. They had kicked Wormtail out of the manor almost as soon as Harry had come to stay for the summer so the man was now on his own as far as living arrangements were concerned. Tom certainly didn't need him around for any sort of magical assistance, and the house elves were far more useful than Wormtail had ever been. He also felt no responsibility to babysit the near worthless wizard.

Harry couldn't help but hope that the stupid little rat would slip up and get himself caught by the Ministry, thus proving his godfather's innocence, but he knew that wasn't actually an option and would cause them a tremendous amount of inconvenience if it did happen since Wormtail was privy to Harry's switch in allegiances, as well as being aware that Voldemort was back. Still, one could always dream...

Harry watched Tom leave the manor from the entry hall and then listlessly made his way up to their bedroom. He sat at his desk and did some runes revision to try distracting his mind but it wasn't working. It was nearing 11 pm, so Harry decided to try and call it an early night but as he lay in bed, he found the sensation of sleeping in the bed by himself unpleasant. He missed Tom's warmth beside him. He missed his body pillow. He missed Tom's steady breath and the thrumming of his heartbeat.

Harry huffed out, frustrated with himself. He'd only been here for a little over two weeks and he was already so accustomed to his sleeping arrangements that he was having trouble sleeping alone? What the heck was he going to do when September 1st came and he had to go back to Hogwarts?

It was at that point that his hand came up and he smacked himself in the face. He couldn't believe how totally and utterly he had neglected his piece of Tom's soul! Tom's soul shard had been his companion every night for more than eight months and, for the last two weeks, he hadn't even thought about him, let alone actually gone into his mindscape to visit him.

Harry slowed his breathing, centered himself, and slipped into his mindscape for the first time since his summer holiday began. As soon as he entered, he knew something was wrong. Or at least... something was different. Maybe not wrong... it didn't feel wrong... it just didn't feel the same.

It was still almost completely dark with only dim diffuse illumination bouncing off gray mist that filled the floor space. Appearance-wise, everything looked the same as the last time he had been there but something just felt different. He twisted around, searching for the solid silhouette of Tom's soul shard, but didn't see him anywhere. Harry felt a small knot of panic begin to fill his chest at the distinct lack of the figure. He still felt the soul's presence, so where was his companion?

Harry...

Harry froze, spinning around again, searching for the figure, but finding none. The voice seemed to emanate from the dark spot in the corner where everything had begun from, so Harry quickly made his way there. It was the darkest spot in his mindscape – always had been, and he suspected it always would be. While mist filled the rest of his mental space, the dark spot was filled by a black amorphous cloud. He searched it, expecting to find his companion's figure emerging from it any moment, but it didn't.

"Where are you?" Harry asked aloud.

Don't worry... Harry.

"Don't worry? Worry about what, exactly? Where are you?" Harry asked, his voice becoming slightly alarmed.

I cannot join you... the way... I used to.

"What! Why not? What happened?"

I told you once... that your Voldemort and I... we are one person, in some ways... and two people... in others.

"I remember..." Harry said, hesitantly.

I told you... that I contained certain... fragments of who... he is... the parts... he considered... weak.

Harry nodded his head slowly, thinking back on that conversation so many months ago. He hadn't given it much thought in quite a while.

He tried to cast certain pieces out... to become stronger. He had isolated those aspects of... himself... kept them separated... for many years... when he chose to... break off a... piece of his soul... he decided to send... those pieces of himself... with it.

Harry frowned. "Wait, you're saying that he broke off a piece of his soul, and he decided to send away part of his personality? But he didn't know that a piece of his soul was in me! I thought it was an accident?"

He did not... intend for... me to go into you... his plan was to place me... in an object of... his choosing. But he could not complete the process... properly.

"Because he was blasted by the curse," Harry said with dawning understanding.

Yes... So I latched onto you... but the aspects of his personality... they were never permanently tethered... to me. The magic that keeps a soul... attached to... an object was not... intended to contain the... aspects of himself... that he cast off. They stayed with me... gravitated to me... because they are drawn to Voldemort's soul, whether... it was just a shard... or the original soul. But the hold has been... tenuous.

"So what are you getting at?" Harry asked, growing impatient.

The connection... that is forming... between you and him... growing stronger... Bonding you... It has provided a conduit. Those pieces of himself that... he cast away... have returned to him through that connection. They have left me.

Harry gaped at the nothingness of his mindscape. Was that why Tom had been acting so differently lately?

"So what does that mean for you? I mean... are you okay?" Harry asked, worriedly.

Yes... I am quite... good, actually.

"You are?" Harry asked, slightly surprised by that claim.

I am... pleased. Happy. That you two... have found... this connection. That you... have found... each other. It fills me... with... pride. You have come... so far... I have... been with you... watched you... almost all your life. Even when... you did not know... that I was here.

"So... you're happy for us? Even if you've lost a piece of yourself?"

I have not lost it. It has returned where it belonged.

Harry heaved a long sigh as he tried to process all of this. He wondered how Tom would take it, knowing that things he had thrown away because he thought they made him weak had come back to him on their own. He wondered if maybe Tom might have already realized what was happening to him. He was always hyper aware of his own behavior, but rarely opened up about it.

Harry shook his head, but smiled. It was a lot to take in, but he certainly didn't dislike the idea.

He raised his head and suddenly caught a glimpse of something in the dark cloud that filled the dark spot that represented Tom's soul. He cocked his head to the side and squinted into the darkness. He took a few steps closer, and as he got closer, the cloud parted, revealing the object he had noticed.

He knew for a fact that it had not been there before. Where there had once been nothing but cloud, mist, and wall, he could now see a door.

"What's this?" Harry asked aloud.

The conduit...

Harry blinked. "What does that mean, exactly?"

This is... your mind's representation... of the connection... that you... and your Tom share.

"But why is it a door?"

The visions... that you used to have... in your sleep...

Harry waited, expecting the man to go on but he didn't.

"What about them?"

This is the path... that your mind took... to enter his mind. Only now... it is stronger... You are stronger.

"Are you saying that if I go through that door, I'll be able to get into Tom's head?"

He likely has one as well... he could come here. You can go there...

Harry's eyes widened as he slowly processed this revelation. This could be huge! Harry thought suddenly. He needed to know the extent of what this connection could do though. If they could somehow use it to communication to each other through their minds, then it could be an enormous benefit once Harry had to go back to Hogwarts.

Harry looked back at the door, debating over whether he should just go through the door, or if he should wait until Tom got back from meeting with the dementors.

Thoughts of the dementors sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. He still hated the idea of Tom being there, alone. Of course, rationally, he knew he was being an idiot. Tom certainly wasn't about to get killed. He was the bloody Dark Lord for Merlin's sake. He could handle some dementors. Harry also tried to tell himself that the fact that a piece of Tom's soul was in him would save the man from any sort of deadly accident, but he couldn't completely convince himself of that when dementors were involved.

Dementors didn't hurt your body. They ate your soul. Harry had no idea what an attack on Tom's soul would do...

He closed his eyes and forced the thoughts out of his head. He knew he was being irrational and worrying about stupid things. Still, his irrational worries were nagging at him to check up on Tom and without leaving himself time to second-guess his decision he walked forward through the cloud then opened the door.

As soon as he stepped through the door he felt a great pulling force as he was propelled forward in a blur of light, cold wind with whipping streams of hot air mingled in. He found himself squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught of unexpected sensation. Without a moment's warning, however, it all suddenly stopped and he felt himself wobble dizzily on his feet for a moment. He was confused and mildly concerned. What the hell was that?

What's more... What... there was something...

He instantly raised his Occlumency shields to full strength as he looked around, trying to make sense of the strange sensations. He felt as if someone had just attempted... and succeeded in penetrating his mind. The last person who had even tried to use Legilimency on him was Dumbledore, and even he hadn't succeeded! What the hell was going on?

He looked around, taking in his surroundings again. The room was chilled and horribly uncomfortable, but he had cast a rather powerful shield around the portion of the room he was standing in while the three dementors were gathered on the other end deliberating over his offer. He knew they'd accept. They knew it too, they just couldn't afford to appear eager.

But aside from the group of dark creatures and he, himself, there was no one else in the room. Dementors did not bother with the mental arts, so he knew that he hadn't been attacked by one of them, plus they were thoroughly distracted and what motive would they have?

So what was the cause of the sensation he had felt? Not felt... he still felt it. It was still there. It didn't feel entirely invasive though almost natural so he had almost missed that it was still present. In fact... it was almost...

He shook his head. This was strange. He did not like being surprised or confused, and right now he was both. He had no idea what the hell it was he was experiencing, and that was an experience he entirely and completely loathed.

Suddenly he felt a wave of guilt, and the feeling of the presence sort of tugging at his mind. Almost as if it were trying to retreat.

As it pulled, he found himself able to find it better. To locate exactly where it was inside his mind and he closed his eyes momentarily, wary of doing something like that in the presence of the dementors, but too intent on identifying what was going on to hesitate. He slipped inside his mind, searching for the intruding presence and suddenly came across an incredibly familiar magical force.

Harry?

He thought, bewildered.

Tom? Can you hear me?

What the..? How are you doing this?

Do you remember the visions I had while sleeping, back before I came to you?

You're having a vision? Tom exclaimed, startled.

Sort of... it's hard to explain. I'll really need to speak to you in person. I'm going to try and leave. I'm sorry I interrupted your meeting... I was just... being stupid. You know me, Dementors freak me out. The thought of you being there, alone with them... I just had to check on you.

No Harry... it's fine. Now that I know what's going on, it's not nearly so distressing. You can remain if you prefer. Tom paused for a moment. Harry, are you suggesting that you initiated this whole thing intentionally?

I actually did! Sort of. Something kind of big happened. I'll tell you when you get back. Okay?

Tom sighed, slightly frustrated by the idea of having to wait, but he knew that it was important that he refocused on the meeting.

Fine. I need to get back to the meeting.

Please do. I'm really not comfortable with the idea of you not being entirely on your guard around those things.

Tom internally rolled his eyes while smirking. He quickly pulled out of his mindscape and turned back to face the group of dementors. They were still huddled together although one of the morbid looking creatures was turning occasionally and glancing his way.

He sighed with an air of impatience. He was only going to allow this to go on so much longer. Both sides knew perfectly well how this would turn out and their insistence on delaying things was beginning to grate on his nerves.

The hum of Harry's presence in the back of his mind brought a reluctant smile upon his lipless mouth, though. It was strangely comforting to feel the young man's habitation in his mind.

The meeting with the dementors was finally drawn to a conclusion with the dementors swearing their allegiance to him and his cause then arranging for a future meeting to discuss various plans he had. Among other things, they would be providing him with detailed information on Azkaban prison and agreed that the dementors would start to keep their distance from those prisoners who bore his mark so that they could begin to slowly recover from the negative effects of their nearness to the dark creatures.

Throughout the whole thing, Tom continued to feel Harry's presence in the back of his mind and also found the younger wizard's emotions bleed through on occasion. In fact, the longer he was there, the more clear and distinct the younger wizard's emotions and reactions became. Less mingled with his own, and more independent as if Harry were slowly being able to separate himself from Tom's first person view of the events.

Finally the meeting came to an end and Tom left the old shack that he had met with the dementors in then apparated back to the manor. He transformed back into his normal appearance as he made his way up the stairs to the third floor and directly into his and Harry's bedroom. He came to stand at the foot of the bed to find Harry seemingly sleeping soundly. Harry, inside his mind, apparently found this entire experience – namely, watching himself sleep through Tom's eyes – very odd.

Tom watched quietly and felt a strong swelling of emotions as he looked down at the peaceful face of his young lover. Such a beautiful young man... And he's mine. A grin spread across his thin lips.

Mild embarrassment at war with happiness whispered into the back of his mind but it was overpowered by affection and warmth. He grinned as he walked closer then ran his fingers over Harry's cheek and brushed his messy black hair away from his face. He really was quite fond of longer hair on Harry. He wondered if the boy intended to grow it out even more. He certainly wouldn't mind.

A mischievous smirk found its way onto his lips and he leaned down, pressing his lips against the lips of the sleeping Harry. In the back of his mind a swirl of emotions grew louder. They were rather convoluted, but it was obvious that Harry found kissing himself to be an entirely weird and disconcerting experience, that he wanted Tom to stop doing it while he was still inside his head.

Tom pulled back and laughed at the indignant grumble of annoyance he felt from Harry.

"Well, perhaps you should get out, if you don't like what's going on," Tom said aloud, still smirking to himself. He felt the presence pulling and tugging again, but he could sense some frustration and confusion in there too.

"Are you trying to tell me that you don't know how to get out?" Tom asked aloud.

A feeling of resignation and annoyance flooded him and he sighed while shaking his head.

Tom sat down on the edge of the bed, took a simple calming breath and delved inside his own mind, searching for Harry's presence again.

Harry?

Tom!

So you're having trouble?

Er... yeah. I guess so.

Tell me how you managed to do this in the first place, and perhaps we can figure out how to undo it. Tom said with a slight air of exasperation to his mental voice.

I went into my mindscape like I used to every night, but something was different. My companion can't manifest as a physical silhouette form anymore like he used to. We need to talk about that actually... um... anyway, in the back of my mindscape, in the dark cloudy area that houses your soul piece, there's a door now. He – the soul piece... my companion – he said that it's a doorway to the conduit that connects us. That it's grown and that I've grown stronger so I can activate it on purpose instead of it just happening by some fluke like back when I had my visions.

Hmm... fascinating, Tom mused quietly.

He said that you probably have it too. That you could come into my mind the same way. Harry continued.

Tom pondered on this for a moment before 'speaking' again. You're 'mindscape' is a vivid imagined space with different aspects representing different things. I have rarely bothered with creating a physical manifestation of my mind but I suspect if I do that now we may find the 'door' that you can take to leave.

Ah, that sounds like it could work.

Tom focused on constructing a visible mindscape. It certainly wasn't a foreign concept to him. Creating an imagined, visual mental environment, was actually a common angle many people took when learning more advanced Occlumency. Many people tried to create some sort of place that represented them, with separate rooms or storage containers, for holding different aspects of themselves, or their memories. Tom felt it was a crutch and didn't choose to make use of the method but he had at least explored the option in the past.

The visual space that materialized was the same one that he had created, long, long ago, when he first tried creating a visual representation of his mind.

Harry materialized beside him, blinking owlishly as he looked around.

"The chamber of secrets?" Harry asked, clearly confused.

"My own personal, chamber of secrets," Tom remarked with mild amusement.

"Why does it look like this?"

"The last time that I bothered to create a visual representation of my mind, I was a sixth year student at Hogwarts."

Harry turned and blinked at him with obvious surprise. "Wow, been a while then, huh?"

Tom snorted lightly. "Yes, you could say that. I experimented with the technique, but didn't feel that it was necessarily right for me, so I abandoned it. The texts that I read recommended creating visual representations that meant something to you. As you can see, this is just the main anti-chamber and it is not laid out the same as the actual chamber."

Harry nodded. "Right. There's extra doors too."

"The doors lead to various aspects of myself. Different time frames of my life and different aspects of my personality that I sectioned off."

Harry frowned slightly and his brow furrowed. Tom sensed some turbulent emotions from the younger man and turned to look at him curiously.

"I need to tell you something, Tom," Harry said, turning and facing him.

Tom raised a single questioning eyebrow.

"The soul piece, my companion, he told me that he's lost a portion of you that used to give him the power to manifest form in my mind."

Tom's eyes widened minutely but inside he felt some things constrict with concern. Lost a portion of me?

"He said that you broke off the piece of your soul on purpose that night, that it wasn't an accident," Harry began hesitantly meeting Tom's eyes.

Tom frowned for a moment before sighing lightly. "That is correct. The magic is considered one of the darkest of dark arts. Splintering off a piece of one's soul requires the act of murder to act as a catalyst. I intended to create a... it's called a Horcrux. An object that contains a piece of one's soul. I intended to create one with your death."

Harry nodded but had no other obvious reaction to this statement.

"The soul piece in me, he said that you also tried to send away parts of yourself with him. That you had isolated portions of your personality that you didn't like, or that you thought made you weak. You took those portions and sent them with the soul piece."

Tom's eyes widened, slightly startled. "That is correct. Although, I had thought I was unsuccessful."

"You mean you didn't think you had sent them away?" Harry asked, surprised.

"They had been suppressed and locked away for a very long time, Harry. Whether they were gone, or still suppressed, I did not know. I felt the same either way. Plus, when everything went to hell, and I was trapped in limbo, I wasn't exactly in the position to analyze whether or not I had succeeded in that particular attempt. I had assumed that the creation of the Horcrux had failed so I had no reason to think that those pieces of myself that I had intended to send away with it had left me."

"But after you realized that I had become a er... Horcrux , did you think that you may have succeeded in sending those pieces away?"

"I... honestly, Harry, I hadn't thought about it much. It had been an extraordinarily long time, and I hadn't even been sure if it were possible to send them away."

"Well, apparently you did send them away. They've been in me, attached to the piece of your soul inside me. But he said that the bond that we've been forming made the conduit between us so much stronger that those pieces of you were pulled back along it. That they were drawn to the real you. He said that they've returned to you."

Tom stood there, blinking, blankly at Harry as he processed the young man's words. It explained so much, honestly. He had actually thought that, perhaps, the methods he had used to bind away those emotions and traits had begun to degrade or fail him and that was why they had been slipping through. But knowing now that those traits had, in fact, been banished as he had originally planned, but that they were now trying to remerge... well, it explained some things that had, quite honestly, been concerning him lately.

Only mildly concerning, though. He had to admit that he wasn't nearly as upset about all this as he knew he possibly should be. But he was maintaining control around his followers. He had no trouble remaining in control of his actions and choices during meetings or when it mattered. The other quirks really only tended to show up around Harry and he had to admit that he didn't exactly mind that.

He found Harry's reactions to his 'unusual' actions to be rather amusing, actually.

"Is that... alright?" Harry's voice broke through his focus.

The insecurities and worry in the younger man's tone made him smile lightly. He took a few steps and closed the gap between the two of them. He reached up and brushed his knuckles against Harry's cheek before splaying his hand out then brushing his fingers through Harry's soft black hair. "Yes, Harry," he found himself speaking in a soft, reassuring, tone. "It's alright."

It didn't take much effort to add a door to his mental Chamber that would take Harry back to his own mind. Tom simply had to will it into existence and it was there. Harry opened the door and disappeared inside. Tom pulled out of his mind just in time to see Harry blinking sleep from his eyes and sitting up groggily.

"That was extremely weird," Harry said as he rubbed his hand roughly across his face.

"Hmm... quite. We'll need to explore what all this link of ours can do," Tom mused.

Harry sighed but smiled. He looked away for a minute with a distant, unfocused look to his eyes. Tom could feel some turbulent, conflicted emotions slipping in through their link. He sat there quietly, waiting for Harry to sort through whatever it was he was thinking about.

Finally, Harry seemed to come to a decision and he twisted in the bed, facing Tom.

"I'm not the only Horcrux you've made, am I?" Harry asked.

"No. You're not."

"Nagini," Harry said easily. It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact.

"Correct."

"I can feel you in her. I think part of me has wondered about it for a while, but I didn't exactly know what to think... if it was actually a piece of your soul, or if it was just that you'd infused her with so much of your magic..."

Tom had to admit that he wasn't surprised by this. Harry could sense him where ever he was in the manor, and, honestly, he could sense Harry.

"Is it always something that's alive? That doesn't seem very safe," Harry mused with a furrowed brow.

"Actually, I had never heard of it being done that way. You're right in that it sort of goes against the point of the thing. A horcrux is designed to cheat death. You place a piece of your soul in an object and hide it. As long as that object remains intact, you cannot fully die. There will always be something to tether you to this world. The general idea is to use some small object and hide it. The objects are layered with an incredible amount of protections, making them nearly indestructible except to the most extreme of measures. Using a living creature means that if the creature itself ever dies, the piece of your soul that you have attached to it will be lost.

"But I already had horcruxes hidden and protected to guarantee my survival. Nagini served another purpose. With a piece of my soul within her, I was able to enhance her as well as maintain a level of control over her. I can enter her mind and control her actions, remotely, should I ever have the need."

Harry nodded his head slowly. His eyes were distant and unfocused again and Tom wondered if he should ask what Harry seemed to be so bothered by when Harry finally looked up and met his eyes. Tom felt his chest constrict slightly in the most horribly unpleasant and foreign kind of ways at the devastated look in Harry's eyes.

"The diary," Harry said in a near-whisper. "It had a piece of your soul in it, didn't it?"

Tom sighed heavily and nodded. "It did. But Harry, I –"

"I destroyed a piece of your soul," Harry whispered hoarsely and the waver in his voice made the constricting feeling in Tom's chest tighten.

"Harry, you're being absurd," Tom said, trying to remain outwardly undisturbed by all of this but feeling small bits of himself crumbling inside. "You were just a child, and you had no idea what... "

"It doesn't matter if I didn't mean to, or if I didn't know what I was doing. It doesn't change the fact that I did it. I destroyed a piece of your soul!" Harry exclaimed in a voice that was louder, but still just was broken and hoarse. "I... I destroyed..."

"I killed your parents," Tom said in a harsh tone. Harry's head slowly turned and he looked at Tom with obvious confusion and a furrowed brow.

"Wha... Tom... no, I –"

"No, Harry. I killed your parents. I murdered them, Harry. In cold blood and without remorse or regret. I tried to kill you. As a defenseless infant! Even I think that's a rather despicable act."

"What are you getting at?" Harry said, shaking his head and still looking confused.

"You say you've forgiven me," Tom said, and though his voice remained sure, inside he felt the tiniest prickle of fear and some part of him hated that he felt it. Hated that he could feel it.

"I have. It's... I don't blame you. Dumbledore..."

"Precisely, Harry. I forgave you for the diary ages ago. I don't blame you at all."

"But it was your soul! A piece of your soul is lost because of what I did!"

"Because of what Dumbledore did. Because of what Lucius did. But what does it matter, Harry?"

"It's your soul!"

"And they were your parents! I cannot replace them. I cannot undo what I did! We can direct our anger at Dumbledore for an eternity, point fingers, and redirect blame but it does not change the fact that I took something from you that I can never return! You spent your childhood enduring mistreatment, hate, and abuse at the hands of disgusting muggle filth because I took away your chance to have a happy childhood with parents who would have loved you! You think that doesn't bother me?"

Harry sat there, staring wide-eyed and stunned, and Tom had to force a heavy breath out and recenter himself. Tom sighed and ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it back and brushing the loose strands back behind his ears. He looked away slightly, feeling unnerved by the powerful emotions he was still having trouble adjusting to.

"It's in the past, Harry," Tom began, quietly. "We cannot unmake our mistakes, we can only move forward. I do not blame you for the destruction of the diary. I created it with the intention that it would one day get secreted back into the school, in hopes that what happened would happen. That it would possess a student and the Chamber would be reopened. I knew that the risk existed that it could be destroyed if things went badly. It was a risk I was willing to take at the time. It is as much my fault as it is Lucius' and Dumbledore's or yours. Placing blame is meaningless. What's done is done. Do not worry yourself over it."

The two sat in the dark bedroom with nothing but dim moonlight from the windows to illuminate them, for several long, silent, minutes.

"I don't blame you for the Dursley's," Harry said quietly.

"I know, Harry."

"Tom?" Harry's voice was soft, but there was a desperate tinge to it that made Tom look up and meet Harry's beautiful green eyes.

"Yes?"

"Kiss me?"

Tom felt a soft smile slowly work its way onto his lips as he turned his body and leaned over towards the younger wizard, who was still twisted in the blankets of their bedspread. His hand came out and combed through Harry's silky black hair and he pulled them close, brushing his lips against Harry's delicately several times before deepening the kiss then leaning further in.

Clothing was shed slowly and kisses were trailed over flesh lovingly. It wasn't rough or desperate like their coming together so often was. It was slow, and tender. Harry gave as much as he took and as Tom lay on the bed with Harry hovering over him, kissing and sucking delicately on every inch of Tom's chest, and trailing his fingers over every inch of skin as if he were memorizing it, and worshiping it at the same time, Tom realized suddenly that this was what it was like to make love to someone. It wasn't just sex, and they weren't fucking. Of course sex with Harry hadn't ever been just sex. But this was different. It wasn't about getting off. It wasn't even about giving or receiving pleasure, per se. It was about providing solace. Reassuring each other. Comforting each other. It was about... about loving each other.

And as he held himself over Harry some time later, rhythmically thrusting in... in... in... it was slow, deep, and tender. Their chests were pressed together and his lips pressed against Harry's neck and jaw as he whispered and hissed unintelligible nonsense against the gloriously beautiful younger man's skin.

Harry, who was normally so loud and vocal when they fucked, simply panted loudly, moaning and keening quietly in time with Tom's movements while his lips moved to form words that he didn't voice out loud.

And as the crescendo began to climb in the pit of his gut and the pleasure began to spike dramatically, he could feel it echoed from Harry's end of the link and amplifying his own pleasure. The two came, simultaneously, hissing out each others' names in parseltongue.

Tom collapsed on Harry and slowly slid to the side, wrapping his arm around Harry and holding him tightly to him before twisting around to lay on his back, pulling Harry with him. Harry smiled against him and curled up into his usual position, using Tom's shoulder as his pillow and draping one leg over the other man's hips and slipping easily into sleep.

Several long, quiet minutes of listening to Harry's deep, consistent breathing passed and Tom turned his head, pressing his lips against Harry's forehead as he watched him sleep.

"I think I love you, Harry," he whispered, kissing Harry one more time before sighing heavily and closing his own eyes. He allowed sleep to take him, and felt himself sleeping easier than he had in a very long time.
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Harry Potter and the Breeding Darkness