Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling and do not own Harry Potter. Neither do I earn money from writing this.
A/N: So here's another one-shot! Just like the other one-shot, Marry Him Anyway, I wrote earlier this month the idea for this story came from a song!
I doubt any of you have heard it, but I'll mention it anyway. It's called Jealousy by the danish singer Medina. I usually never listen to her songs, but as I was driving to school one morning it popped up in the radio and inspiration hit me.
Important: It hasn't been beta read. While I did my best to spot any mistakes when I wrote and reread it, english is only my second language so there's probably some mistakes I could not catch.
If you see some, I would be delighted if you could point them out so I can correct the mistakes.:)
Enjoy!
Jealousy
"Tom!" He glanced hesitantly up from his book, hurriedly reading the last sentences of the page as he lifted his head to see just who it was.
Studying the man in front of him, a pleasant smile spread across his face. "Harry." He murmured. The black-haired man stood smilingly in front of him, no changes visible from the last time Tom had seen him six months earlier.
Pitch-black hair gathered in an adorable, messy nest on the top of his head and average height with slim limbs; he was much more beautiful in real life than in the dreams Tom had had lately.
Closing his book, he leaned further back in the chair. "How have you been?" Tom asked, gesturing for the chair opposite of him. "Would you like some tea?"
Harry smiled wider. "I haven't seen you at all for six months, and you won't even give me a hug?" He mocked amusingly, ignoring Tom's questions.
Nodding hesitantly, he stood up to give the smaller man a gentle hug, though Harry crushed them together as soon as his hands made their way behind Tom's back. "It's great to see you." Harry muttered into his ear.
Swallowing Tom forced himself to take a step back, giving Harry a stiff smile. "It's always wonderful to see you too, Harry." It was too good to see him, to touch him, to smell him; it felt as though his control was slowly slipping away.
Slumping down on the offered chair, Harry nodded absentmindedly, staring off into the crowd.
They found themselves in the only tea shop in the entire Diagonal Alley, a small shop always buzzing with people. Tom despised the people, but adored the tea; so he never managed to go other places than that particular store.
Harry had known Tom longer than anyone else, so he knew Tom's dislikes and likes, which made it embarrassingly easy for the black-haired man to find him.
"How have you been?" Tom asked again, staring intently at Harry's relaxed frame. Looking away from the crowd, Harry shrugged. "Good at the moment, but it has been pretty tiring to follow her through her rehabilitation these six months." He murmured, a painful light entering his eyes.
Tom's nose almost furrowed in annoyance, but he hid it by taking a large gulp of tea from his cup. "Of course, it must have been horrible to see her in such a state." He said, a pleasant smile spreading across his face. Harry, who trusted him blindingly, never saw the hint of irony in his words.
Sighing deeply, he leaned forward, massaging his eyebrows. "The healers said it's a miracle she survived, that she even manages to function normally..." Tom grimaced, knowing Harry was too concentrated on studying his jeans to see his expression.
Tom considered himself a perfectionist, so it was quite a blow to his pride to get his mistake shoved in his face.
"It was such a horrendous accident; I'm pleased to hear that she is doing well." He said, trying and hopefully succeeding in sounding genuinely considerate.
Glancing up, a small smile spread across Harry's face. "She's doing better than fine; she's in exceptionally good health." Tom nodded back, sighing over his embarrassing failure.
"That is wonderful." He whispered. "Do you want some tea? They do have the most fabulous tea here."
"Are you kidding me? I don't drink tea - " Tom knew, but it never prevented him from asking. "-I'd rather have a cup of coffee." Harry said proudly.
Shaking his head in disgust, he murmured. "They don't have revolting beverages such as coffee at this excellent place."
"Excuse me! Coffee is so much better than the water you're drinking all the time." Harry exclaimed.
Tom stared unimpressed at Harry, who was grinning back. "It's considerably more healthy." Tom remarked. "Take caffeine as an example, there's a whole 25-50% less caffeine in tea than in co-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah - I don't drink coffee because I think it's healthy." Harry muttered, waving his hand as if to swat away Tom's words.
Tom, who knew Harry, did not continue to lecture him; instead he just nodded. It was better to please him.
Harry relaxed back in his chair, and Tom noticed the other man's tongue licking his lips. He swallowed, old and new imaginations flying into his head.
How he would have loved to kiss the other man. No, he did not need to do anything sensual; just to hold Harry's hand, to feel his skin against his would be enough for a lifetime.
Tom's eyebrows were drawn down in a distressed expression; his eyes attaining a longing light as he stared at Harry.
Harry sat straighter up, staring worriedly at Tom. "Are you alright?" Tom shook himself out off his self-pity, a small pleasant smile forcing its way into existence. "Of course." He murmured.
"Really?" Harry asked again.
"Yes, Mr. Potter. Nothing to worry about." Tom answered slowly, but he could see that Harry did not believe his words. Sighing, he stared intently at Harry. "I do not think you want anything to do with my sexual life, do you?" He asked mockingly, enjoying the pink color spreading across Harry's face.
Sputtering, Harry shook his head. "No, absolutely not. You're my friend; I'd rather not imagine you in such scenes."
I imagine you laying breathlessly beneath me whenever I go to bed, Tom though.
"Indeed." Was the only word he managed to get out.
They both relaxed, listening to the buzzing sound of voices around them. The weather was exceptionally fine; a clear blue sky stretching as far as the eye could see. Absolutely no cloud in sight, just the clearest color, calming the loud city beneath. The huge florist beside the tea-shop sent a sharp aroma of roses over the area, lulling the wizards into a drugged state where relaxation were their only reality.
After a while, Harry inhaled deeply. "Tom."
"Yes."
"I'm getting married." Harry whispered, deep happiness clear in his eyes.
Tom felt the idyllic world around them crack; blue sky becoming too consuming and the aroma of roses disgustingly sickening. He nodded. "Congratulation, I'm happy for you."
"It is Ginerva Weasley, is it not?" He asked pleasantly.
Harry smiled brightly, nodding excitedly. "Who else?" He asked. Me, Tom thought.
Shifting nervously, Harry swallowed harshly. "I..." Glancing up through his hair, he bit his lips. "Will you be my best man?" He said hurriedly, holding his breath.
Please, do not torture me further. "It would be a pleasure."
Harry stood up cheerfully. "Great! I'll send you an owl about the formalities."
Tom spoke on automatic record for the rest of their conversation. He acted the way he always did, pleasant and dry - the way Harry's childhood friend would have behaved.
The world had never been fair to Tom, so it was no surprise that he was denied what he wanted the most in the universe, Harry Potter. His flawed childhood friend who fell in love with a replica of his own mother - someone he could never get enough off.
The wedding itself had been one of the worst experiences in Tom Riddle's life. To stand close to that cow of a woman, who had stolen his precious gem, without embedding a knife in her throat had been an achievement he was proud of.
Harry had been as happy as a clam, throughout the whole evening so Tom had not managed to ditch the afterparty even though he desperately wished to butcher something.
"Tom, what do you think?" Harry asked smilingly as he strolled up to Tom. "I've managed to get quite the looker?"
Tom glanced towards the group gathered around the bride. Ginerva Weasley could be considered pretty by some, but a looker she was not. "Yes, quite." He murmured.
"Right!" Harry laughed, slapping Tom's back.
Staring disgustedly at Ginerva, Tom turned around towards Harry. "Are you happy, Harry?" He asked, staring seriously into the other man's emerald eyes.
Harry stared confusedly at Tom, before he smiled pleasantly. "Ah - I see, you're worried about my choices in life." Lifting his glass to his mouth he murmured. "You don't have to worry, she's perfect. I'll never regret it."
Tom stared sadly after Harry as he sauntered away. He loved him more than any other being on the earth, and the last thing he wished to do was to hurt him. Though if Harry was telling the truth, and he and Ginerva really were happy together, then something had to be done.
Anything, so Harry never will abandon me for someone else.
Tom stared morosely at Harry's shaking shoulders. Family members had a place at the first row, so Tom had no choice but to sit behind Harry silently staring at the trembling back.
The red-haired family sat huddled together, tears and snot streaming down their face. It was such a tragedy, to think the beloved Weasely daughter would take her life only half a year after marrying the love of her life. It had been a sudden and unpredictable disaster.
Harry sobbed loudly and one of the Weasley brothers, Fred, held him closely. Hopefully, the red-haired man had some preservation skills and would not get into any kind of relationship with Harry.
Fred glanced over his shoulder and their eyes met. Tom nodded in consolation; the other nodded back in gratitude. If only he knew what drove his sister to commit suicide.
Tom leaned forward so he was sure Harry would hear his words. "Harry, everything will be alright."
Harry stirred and Fred released him from his comforting embrace. Harry stared at Tom, the lack of sleep was painfully obvious on his beautiful face. "What?" He mumbled.
"Everything will be alright. We will take care of you."
I will take care of you.
The End