Inside Out

Pairing: Tom/Harry

Warnings: This story contains SLASH, meaning male/male love. Don't read, if you're offended by that.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, settings etc. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. Except for the characters & things that I invent myself. And I'm not trying to make any money with this story either.

Author's note: Well, guys... what can I say? x___X I'm an awfully lazy little *rambles on*... But yeah, that sounds about right. So sorry, for keeping you waiting such a long time! For that reason this chapter is extra long! XD And I hope I can make up to you with posting the next chapter in about a week or two, at the most! I promise.^^ Thank you all for the lovely comments you left me, while waiting for this story to continue. I love you all! ^__^

Please enjoy!


Upon waking the next day, Harry noticed that he was completely tangles in his blanket, and had serious trouble trying to detach himself piece by piece from the clinging fabric. He was eventually successful in freeing himself and reached for his glasses, all the while mumbling under his breath.

The first thing his eyes fell on was the large book on his bed stand and the small part of a parchment sticking out of the front cover. His stomach gave an agitated jolt, as last night's memory flooded back into his mind. Harry slowly picked up the tome.

It did not surprise him that Riddle's bed was deserted and, with a quick glance, Harry checked to make sure that the door was tightly closed. The thought that he didn't want his friends to burst in on him while reading Taylor's note- which most definitely should not be found in his possession- did not concern him at all.

If they kept secrets from him, why shouldn't he do the same for them?

Besides…

A certain realization had suddenly dawned on him. Hadn't Hermione asked him whether Voldemort had approached him about the matter of bonds or not? So they did know something about it, but had simply chosen not to tell him.

Oh well, or they just think that they know what's best for me… as usual.

Very resolutely now, Harry unrolled the parchment and started to scan the small piece – not without another cautious glance towards the door that was. The note had neither a name to who it was addressed nor the name of a possible sender. Even the small bit of writing it contained appeared strangely obscured, and by the look of it, probably on purpose.

They will have to fulfill its bidding.

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Harry had found the kitchen deserted when he entered the room later that morning, seeing only a note on the table that told him Ron and Hermione had gone out again. He hardly even looked at it before he threw it into the trash and made himself something to eat. It was very quiet in the house and Harry could, for the first time really understand how bored Sirius must have felt when he had still been locked up here. For a whole year no less!

No wonder he was so desperate to get out. I feel sort of trapped in here too…

Chewing on a toast, he looked round the kitchen and remembered how cramped the place had been with the Order of the Phoenix residing in it. With a constant coming and going of people - and Mrs. Weasley - here, Grimmauld Place had never been boring. She had made sure that everybody had work to do. Not the greatest way to spend your leisure time, true, but at least cleaning filled up the extra time.

Harry took his toast and left the room, wondering where Taylor was. The little parchment in the pocket of his trousers rustled, and he suddenly felt nervous. Would he be able to sneak into the other's room to put the parchment back? Should he even attempt to return it?

Maybe it would be easier if he was going to enter Taylor's room under the pretense of asking him something, which should not be too big of a problem, for he had numerous questions that needed answering

"Taylor?" Knocking softly on the door, Harry called out for the other. But after several minutes he had not gotten an answer, and Harry tried again. His second attempt turned out to be just as successful as the first, and the thought of just sneaking into the room and returning the parchment came back to his mind.

I could try… and if he comes in, I'll just…have to make something up.

With that decided, Harry pushed the door open and entered.

The room was almost empty, unused looking, and if it had not been for the slightly rumpled bed and the dust cleaned off on it, he would have thought that nobody was living here. Furnished very much like the other bedrooms, it contained a bed and a wardrobe. A fireplace was set into the stony wall at the left hand side of the room.

Looking back over his shoulder, Harry took a few more steps and scanned the room.

Where could he place the parchment without making it seem too obvious? He should have asked Riddle where exactly he had gotten it from, when his eyes halted at the bed stand.

Well, it certainly would be the place where he would keep a letter.

Deciding to act on his only guess, Harry strode over to the bed and opened the first drawer of the little bedside table.

A small, old looking photograph slid into sight.

It was showing two young men that were laughing and smiling up at him. One of them looked a lot like Taylor, perhaps in his early twenties. The other, who had his arm slung around Taylor's shoulder, looked quite similar to him, though the man's eyes were brown and not a bluish-gray like Taylor's.

They could be brothers, thought Harry, as he looked at the picture.

If they were indeed related to each other, Taylor's brother had a slightly more pronounced air of handsomeness about him with the somewhat whiskey like color of his eyes and his high cheekbones. He also had shorter hair and was probably the younger one of the two.

Upon seeing this picture of Taylor and obviously somebody close to him, Harry remembered that he still did not know much from the other. What about his family? Were or had they all been Death Eaters? So they were purebloods? Taylor must have attended Hogwarts, or maybe Durmstrang? Beauxbatons? How did he end up in the Order of the Phoenix?

A loud crash startled Harry out of his musings and he whirled around.

It must have come from downstairs. In his hurry to leave the room, to see what had happened, he had almost forgotten the reason for coming here and stumbled back again, carefully placing the parchment next to the photograph and pushed the drawer shut.

What happened?

Halfway down the stairs, Harry saw Taylor standing in the hallway. A splintered vase was lying on the floor beside him - its pieces seemed to be covering the whole floor around him.

Just a second before he would have called out to the elder, to ask what had happened, he heard Taylor speak to somebody, his voice low and threatening. Harry halted instantly and strained to listen.

"If you ever-"

"What?!" Snapped another voice, which sounded very scathing and… familiar. "Tell him the truth, because you're constantly failing to do so?"

Now carefully not to draw any attention to himself, Harry took a few more steps down and Riddle came into view, his arms crossed and a vicious glare directed toward Taylor, his eyes narrowed. The fact that he was cornered by the other did not seem to concern the dark wizard too much, which the haughty expression on his face could tell only too well.

"Oh, or let me rephrase that: because you've deliberately decided not to do so."

The next thing he knew, Taylor had grabbed Riddle's shoulder in a not too soft looking grip and seized him up against the wall. "You monster, as if you're doing this for his sake. The only thing you're after is your own advantage! Well, I'll make very sure that you won't be able to use him in that sick scheme of yours!"

Feeling the sudden urge to step in, Harry made sure his next steps were not to be overheard and saw he did not fail, as both Taylor and Riddle looked up to him.

"What's… going on?" He asked, his eyes darting forth and back between the two.

The grip in which Taylor held the dark wizard did not loosen -on the contrary his fingers seemed to nearly pierce into Riddle's shoulder. Harry did not think the other to be fragile, but that would have hurt everyone.

Riddle didn't even make a face.

He was either really good in suppressing pain or simply quite successful in covering it up. Harry was convinced it was the latter. Reaching the bottom of the stairs he repeated his question.

"Taylor, what's going on here?"

He saw, with some relief, that the elder let go of Riddle reluctantly.

"We had a small disagreement, but I believe we were able to settle things." Taylor gave the other a short glare, but the dark wizard did not argue, which struck Harry as slightly odd.

Who do you think I am, Taylor? Lying to me like that…

Trying to keep his gaze from being accusing he kept looking at the elder. "I see."

"In fact, I believe it will be better, if you two…"

Harry's eyes were on the floor, as he made his way through or rather round the shards of the vase, which proved to be more difficult than he would have thought. Taylor obviously did not seem to care much about repairing the broken vessel at the moment.

"…won't share a room from now on."

Half expecting the other would say something like that; Harry had started to nod, when he felt a sharp tug at his wrist and nearly lost his balance, as he stumbled forward. Stepping on a bunch ofshards in the process, he could feel his feet slipping and let out a shocked gasp, already picturing himself to land on the floor just a second later.

The sudden appearance of arms around him prevented his fall and he instinctively reached out, grabbing the first thing he could and bumped into the person that had just saved him from a straight fall into the pile of sharp fragments on the ground.

Only slowly was Harry able to regain balance and shaking off the dizziness, he raised his head.

Oh, no…

Riddle looked at least as surprised as he did, but managed a faint smile at him that caused Harry's heart to skip a beat, an experience he couldn't quite explain.

Suddenly very aware of how close they were, his cheeks warmed and he lowered his eyes.

"Er… thanks." Harry wanted to step back, feeling a sudden need for a lot of distance between them.

However Riddle did not seem too willing to let go of him just yet, as he turned his head and addressed Taylor, who must have watched the whole scene. Harry's embarrassment increased tenfold at the realization.

"I dare say it should be rather difficult to separate us, wouldn't you agree?"

What's he talking about?

His almost-fall had caused Harry to lose complete track of the conversation. But by the way Taylor looked at them, he was quite sure that their talk must have taken quite the unpleasant turn somewhere in-between the lines.

Harry tried to detangle himself from Riddle and did his best to fight back his blush.

Evidently Riddle must have seen Taylor's glare as well and he smirked. "You know only too well that I didn't do anything." His vicious sneer stood in great contrast to the satisfied expression on his face. "I didn't have to."

The dark wizard's sniping undertone made the younger flinch like so many times before. It never ceased to shock him that somebody could express so much cruelty, so much… malice with nothing but words.

Why are you like that, Tom? Did they really make you…?

Harry noticed that Riddle looked at him for a split-second, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

/You should stop worrying about things that are none of your business./

The smooth, but rebuffing voice of the dark wizard flooded his mind and made him blanch. Trying to shake off his shock, Harry remembered what he had read in the book. About how a bond's abilities and powers develop in stages, usually equivalent to the number of days it has been active, but also widely depending on the both wizard's willingness to cooperate.

"What stage…?" Forgetting about Taylor for a moment, Harry couldn't refrain from asking.

Riddle however seemed very aware of the other wizard and kept his eyes on him, while replying to Harry with a slight smirk. "Three."

"That's enough! Harry, we need to talk!"

He had really forgotten about Taylor, when the other spoke up and caused the younger to jump a little. Turning around to him, Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at him for a long moment, without responding. Eventually he shrugged and said: "Okay."

I'm really curious now…

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Wordlessly Harry followed the elder up the stairs and into his room, from which he had just come. It was apparent from Taylor's body language that he was pretty angry.

Big deal, thought Harry scathingly. He's not half as angry as I am.

That the bond between Riddle and him had reached stage three now seemed a lot more important to him right now. For it meant they would be able to communicate simply be thinking. The book had said that it was different from Legilimency, because it does not depend on the mental or magical ability of a wizard to block out the other.

It was all mutual. Nothing would work without the approval of the other.

Entering Taylor's room once more, Harry walked over to the window. He did not feel like facing the elder directly, it would only upset him even more. But the slowly burning anger inside of him made him realize that it would be very hard not to explode at Taylor.

I'm bound to Voldemort, for god's sake, but nobody bothered telling me what this 'binding charm' really was. Why should they anyway? Seeing that a bond is hardly different than my usual situation.

Harry gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.

"Whatever you may think now, Harry, don't blame Ron and Hermione for it. They would never have kept things from you, if it wouldn't have been for me imploring them not to talk to you. We couldn't tell you about the bond. How could we have? We had never dreamed that it would actually happen."

"Oh, really? And why is that?" Still facing the window, the youth's eyes were now fixed on an indefinite point out on the street. If he had been looking at Taylor now, he was sure he would have snapped at the other, instead of just giving him a sarcastic remark.

Why on Earth are they doing this againand again!? 'Oh, don't tell Harry, he won't be able to cope' or 'Don't tell Harry, he's too stupidto get it anyway.' They must be extremely disappointed that they're not 'The Chosen One', they'd have done away with Voldemort in no time, I'm sure.

"Harry…" Taylor sighed loudly behind him. "Why do you think I was at your house the day You-Know-Who showed up? It wasn't mere coincidence. I came to get you. I had reached your house the night before and waited for a moment when you would be alone. We… Dumbledore had been worried all this time about whether or not a bond would activate itself between you and the Dark Lord the moment you came of age. Everybody else thought the idea utterly preposterous, but just to be sure - we decided to take you to a place where we could have an eye on you. "

Harry did not respond, but wasn't paying attention to anything on the street anymore. Instead he listened to Taylor intently. He had been dying to hear the reasons why Taylor had suddenly showed up. How they knew Voldemort would turn up at Privet Drive. And Dumbledore… he had known things all along.

Why hadn't Dumbledore told him while he had still been alive?

Taylor resumed. "Of course, we had no… we still have no idea, how You-Know-Who was able to break through the enchantment at your aunt and uncle's house. But we think that it has something to do with the bond." Pausing for a few seconds or so, the elder seemed to think his words over very carefully, before picking back up where he had stopped.

"We knew Dumbledore had never been wrong, when it came to predictions about the Dark Lord and you, but this time… A bond, Harry, happens, if at all, maybe once every two or three hundred years. How could we possibly believe that such a powerful kind of magic would occur? It was just so unlikely. Well, even if we didn't know what to think of Dumbledore's worries, we thought it best to take you away from your Aunt and Uncle sooner rather than later. Obviously we had no idea at that time about the thirteen-day-rule and just how powerful a bond can be."

Remaining silent once again, Harry kept his back to the elder. His mind was reeling with all the new information. They had tried to prevent the bond by… taking him away? And it had not worked, because Voldemort was there, because the bond had reacted the moment they had come into physical contact.

Because it has been thirteen days before my birthday. Thirteen days before I came of age.

Had there really been a way to escape the bond?

"I was too late. Our worst fear was confirmed and you were bound to him. Harry, how could we have told you? We didn't know any solution ourselves, so we started searching for ways a bond could be undone. I had to lie to you."

"Oh, you did, did you?!" Grasping the window sill hard, Harry pressed his lips together.

Taylor sighed and the younger could hardly refrain from turning around and yelling at him.

So sorry I'm being difficult…

"No, I didn't have to, but we decided not to tell you the truth for the time being. What good would it have done? We didn't know what to do and it wouldn't have helped anybody to upset you."

That did it.

Whirling around Harry stared at his opposite. "Oh, I'm sorry for causing you trouble! Maybe you should've kept on lying to me, wouldn't you agree?! Would've made the whole situation easier! Well, too bad that Tom told me what's going on! Tough luck that there's somebody intelligent bound to me, otherwise stupid Harry wouldn't have figured things out! Isn't that what you're thinking?!"

Fury, pure hatred for just about everyone was pulsing through him so powerfully that he was trembling with the force of it. Oh, he did hate them! Right at this moment he felt like he had never liked any of them ever before.

Liars. They. Are. All. Liars. Liars!

Harry saw Taylor opening his mouth and cut right across him. "Be quiet! I don't want to hear your pathetic apologies! You're all the same! Lying to me over and over again, for my safety! You know, I can't be bothered to listen to any of you anymore! I can take care of myself! When are you going to get this?! I don't need fucking bodyguards!"

They could have told me! They could have told me beforehand! I could have run away from the Dursleys. I could have done something! Something… just something to prevent the bond.

"Harry, please-"

"SHUT UP! I'm so sick of you! All of you! I'm tired of listening to more lies. Why don't you go and figure out how to defeat Voldemort? I'm quite surprised that you haven't done him in yet, seeing as you know so very well what to do and what's going on! Oh, but it has always been stupid Harry who has fought quite successfully, I wonder how he's done that!?"

Surprised Harry took a step back as the other strode over to him and grabbed his arm in a tight hold. "Get. A. Grip. Harry. I'm not Dumbledore, I'm not listening to you raging on and on about how unfair the world is! The world is fucking unfair, deal with it!"

"You-"

"No, now you better listen to me." Taylor was quite furious himself. "I have neither the patience nor the will to let you go on like this. It's pointless and childish. I know it wasn't right to keep all this from you, but we didn't have a choice. It had to be done. We're still here to help you - Ron and Hermione are worried sick about you. And all you do is dwell in self-pity and complain about how everybody is unfair to you. Big deal."

Quite stunned, Harry looked at the other unable to respond anything for several seconds. Dumbledore would have never talked to him like that. He would have sat behind his desk in the headmaster's office and had admitted to his mistakes. He would have said that he, Harry, was right and that they should not have kept things from him. He would have apologized to him.

Taylor's got some nerve.

The anger that had subsided for a moment at the elder's unexpected outburst, came flaring back up inside of him, but this time Harry was determined to control it.

"Now you can either go in your room sulking or continue listening to me finishing my earlier explanations. In case you care to or maybe you'd rather stay in the dark, so you can go on whining that nobody's telling you anything."

Finally able to free his arm, Harry ripped it out of Taylor's grip and turned his back to the other.

"You know what?" He spat. "I might actually be better off going. I don't need to listen to anymore of this. I feel like I've had quite enough for awhile. So thanks, but no thanks."

Striding over to the door, Harry felt his nails dig into his palms, so tight had he clenched his wrists. Oh, he would get a grip. He wasn't going to be childish anymore, even though the only thing he really wanted to do at this moment was to smash something to the ground.

"Harry…" Taylor called out after him, but halted before he said: "You can't trust him."

Narrowing his eyes at those words, Harry stopped at the door and laid his hand on the cold wooden frame. Unconsciously did his fingers claw at the wooden surface.

What do you know? You don't know anything. The only thing you care about is…

"Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Harry, you know I didn't-"

But the younger did not wait for Taylor to finish what he was saying and interrupted him. "I know I can't trust him, but… I can't trust you either."

Harry let go of the doorframe and left.

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Ron and Hermione did not come back until late that night and Harry had told Taylor they should not come looking for him. He needed time to think things over, time to sort out where he was standing and how they were going to continue this.

So, the Order was looking for means to free Harry from the bond?

Hah, fucking liar! There are no means and he knows it, he just didn't bother telling me. Or is Tom lying to me? He's Voldemort after all… What if he's trying to lure me into some kind of trap and use me? Who's actually telling me the truth?

Harry let his head drop down onto the table and closed his head. The cool surface seemed to calm his mind. All his thoughts and worries were so mixed up by now – he had no idea what to think of the whole mess he had gotten himself into, let alone getting back out.

What were they going to do, if the Order would not find a way out of this? Did it even make sense to hope for a simple solution? Or was it true that a bond would only cease to exist when the two wizards affected were able to get to the bottom of things and find the reason that they had been bound together? In order to do whatever they were supposed to do…

If this was true, then… what was it that the bond wanted them to do?

How was this ever going to work out? Everything he had read had only made things more complicated. All the powers and abilities of the bond would just be accessible if the two wizards worked together. They would have to agree on things.

This is ludicrous! Wherever these great powers have come from, they've probably no idea just how different Tom and I are. He's everything I despise. He's selfish, cruel, cold-hearted and has no regard for other people. How am I supposed to be on the same page with somebody like that? Since I went to Hogwarts everything I've ever been told was how evil Lord Voldemort is and… then the prophecy.

We basically are supposed to kill each other off. And now I should suddenly work together with him. This is insane. It's never going to work. Never.

Sighing loudly, Harry lifted his head of the table and rested his chin on his hands. The longer he sat around thinking of just exactly how hopeless his situation was, the worse his headache got. He could sit here for another two days and wouldn't have any more answers to his questions.

What kind of a choice do I have? I have to go and talk him.

It was already dark outside when Harry got to his feet and rubbed his eyes. He had not bothered putting a light on in the kitchen. Harry knew somehow that Tom would be in the library room, but did not feel up to facing him. No matter how many questions were on his mind, and no matter how often he was telling himself that the elder would be able to answer them.

The knowledge that it was a bond and not a simple binding charm that connected him to Voldemort, the fight with Taylor, the realization that his friends were lying to him the whole time… he felt terribly confused with it all. His head was hurting and he felt exhausted.

If anything, he wished to be left alone for a very long time, had it not been for the rather strong emotion of loneliness and hopelessness that swept through him that seemed to tell him otherwise.

Who was he to trust in, if not his friends? He would have to talk to them tomorrow - he wanted to hear the truth from them. No, he needed to hear the truth from them.

The atmosphere of the house seemed even more oppressive at night, as it was laying there swallowed up by darkness and deafening silence.

Harry tried to avoid any creaking steps as he made his way up to the third landing.

Pushing the door to the library room open shortly after, he found his assumption that Tom would be here confirmed and entered the room. As he saw the other standing there at the window, his slim, tall form so completely wrapped in darkness, Harry thought he felt a terrible loneliness radiating of him.

He has his followers, but he's always alone. He always was alone. How can somebody bear that?

"Tom?" Carefully he approached the other, who had done nothing yet to acknowledge his presence.

"I was wondering…" Tom turned around to him, his hands buried in the pockets of his trousers. Harry realized that the elder did not wear the same clothes he had been when they had come to Grimmauld Place.

It looked like Riddle had been honest by saying that he did not mind the Muggle clothes, or maybe he had just changed into them, for the simple reason that he hadn't had a choice and could not wear the same things forever.

Now he looks almost like his Muggle father.

Black and white seemed to suit Tom well, even if he had rather light skin. He did not look pale with it. On the contrary, although the clothes were so casual: black trousers – Harry could not tell what fabric – and a white shirt that he had folded up to his elbows - it still gave him an elegant appearance.

He looks like a rich guy. I wish I'd look half as well-dressed in something so simple.

Harry didn't see Tom's lips quirking slightly.

/Really?/

Startled out of his thoughts, the younger looked up and felt blood rising to his cheeks.

Oh…

The other chuckled. "I was wondering when you'd come." He finished his earlier sentence.

"Stop reading my mind." Harry huffed, still feeling embarrassed that Tom had probably heard everything he had just thought. He would have to get used to the fact that he would not have his mind to himself, unless he kept his guard up around the dark wizard… which he really should have done all this time.

"It's rather inviting, if you leave it so open for me to access."

"Well, you could have the decency and not take advantage of it too much." Pursing his lips, the younger folded his arms and sighed. "Anyway…"

"You want to talk about the bond." Tom said, guessing his reason for coming to see him correctly.

Harry nodded slowly. "Yes."

With bewilderment and surprise at the same time, he watched as the elder turned away from him and back towards the window, folding his arms just like Harry had done. "Go on then."

Staring at Tom's back for a minute or two, the younger spelled out the first thing that came to his mind, which had expectedly also been the very thing that had been nagging at him in the back of his head for the entire day.

"Why didn't you resist?!" His question was both accusing and uncomprehending.

He could've resisted the bond! We wouldn't have to be here… it could've been so simple! Why didn't he just… why hasn't he refused to give into it? It doesn't make sense - the book said that only the most powerful wizards are able to resist a bond's influence. He's Voldemort. He's probably the most powerful wizard there is, now that Dumbledore is dead. If he couldn't have fought it, who could have?

Harry saw the other tense, but Tom did not answer.

"Tom!" Unfazed he repeated his question. "Why didn't you resist the bond?!"

Once again, the elder kept quiet for a long time and Harry was on the verge of repeating his question a third time, when Tom finally answered. "That's none of your business."

The rejection and that icy barrier between them were practically tangible.

Disbelief was written all over Harry's face, as he blinked, obviously not having expected such a rebuff at all. But this emotion was quickly replaced by frustration. "Oh, it isn't?!" He snapped at the other in annoyance.

"Quite right, it isn't." Retorted Riddle coldly.

"Pardon me for contradicting you, but I think it bloody well is. In case you haven't noticed yet, if you had simply refused to enter into the bond, we wouldn't be in this fucked up situation!"

Riddle's continuous silence really started to drive him mad and his nerves had been on a rather thin thread all day already. How dare the bastard to just stand there and not talk to him- this was worse than somebody who would actually have the courtesy to argue back properly.

"What do you know, Potter?"

"Enough to get that we wouldn't have to be here, if it weren't for you!" Harry clenched his wrists.

Oh, I hate him! But you're not getting me this time, Riddle.

"Maybe I'm missing something here, but from my point of view I can't see why you could possibly want to be bound to me. I always had the impression that your greatest ambition was to see me dead, but correct me if your priorities have changed recently." Bit the younger out disdainfully and turned away as well.

Riddle kept silent once again. Since the beginning of their argument he had not moved from his place at the window. His back to Harry, the younger could not tell what was going on inside the elder.

"Right, don't talk to me then. We don't have to work this out, but I wonder who'll have a bigger problem with it. I'm quite content here with my friends. You're bound to me, so you won't be able to continue your plan of taking over the wizarding world and your Death Eaters are nothing without you. The longer I look at it, the less I feel bothered. Have a good night, Tom!"

Stomping off to the door, Harry felt the great urge do throttle somebody. He ripped it open and was halfway out of the room, when he heard the other.

"Wait."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, but did not turn around.

"What?!"

Oh, it had never felt better to have somebody at his mercy, that's for sure. The satisfaction that flooded his body made it extremely hard to suppress the smug smirk, his lips twitched slightly.

Feeling Riddle trying to see what he was thinking, Harry shut him out successfully.

How stupid do you think I am, Riddle? He thought to himself. I'm quite curious to hear what your reason was for getting us into this nightmare of a situation.

"I wasn't… able to resist." Came the dark wizard's barely audible answer, finally. His voice shook ever so slightly and Harry would have thought it was perhaps because of the topic, if it weren't for the hardly noticeable surges of rage that he could feel through their connection.

"Problems keeping your temper in check, have we?" It had simply been impossible for Harry to bite his tongue and quite honestly he felt rather reckless at the moment too.

Of course, it was not very clever to advance on things like this or even wise to edge Riddle on, seeing that he was beyond furious already anyway. But how often had he endured Voldemort laughing cruelly and derisively right into his face, when he had been lying at his feet in the dirt and mere seconds away from death?

The other had not given in a single time and so this time, he wouldn't either.

Surely, Harry wasn't a person to seek revenge in such humiliating ways, but he would have been a coward to let Voldemort have the upper hand, when he clearly wasn't in the position for that.

Oh, no Tom, not this time. You better give me something good here.

The short but powerful flash of fury had been unmistakable and Harry was surprised that the other was not at his throat by now, though grateful nonetheless.

"Ever wondered how it is to be dragged through the dirt, while you can't fight back?" Turning around to the dark wizard, the younger was quite prepared to see the other staring at him in hatred and was accordingly unimpressed. "Well, that's exactly how it feels. Now go ahead and try killing me. I can imagine you're just dying to do that and I'm rather sure that you will."

"Never thought you had it in you, Potter." Gritted the elder.

Harry shrugged. "Oh, you know… it's not too difficult being an asshole." Pushing the faint wave of fear away, he stepped right up to Riddle and looked him straight in the face, a cold smile on his lips. "You of all people should know best, shouldn't you?"

The loss of control on Tom's side was not much of a shock to Harry, but it still took him a second to fight off a new wave of dread, as the other had grabbed his arm – his fingers now digging painfully into the youth's skin.

"I swear I-"

"What?! You swear what? That you'll kill me? Oh please, I've got a whole bag full of death threats from you. How come I'm still alive?" Narrowing his eyes, he met the elder's glare.

This time Tom did not retort, his lips pressing together into a thin line instead.

They were both trembling by the agonizing pain that pulsed through every fiber of their bodies, but neither seemed willing to give in or beg down.

"Tell me Tom!" Harry leant in, until their noses were almost touching and whispered dangerously. "Tell me why you didn't fight the bond. You can't possibly be enjoying this and I can assure you already that you'll have a hell of a time with me, if you don't step down from that high horse of yours. I'm not going to be your little plaything in this."

It started to get blinding, his surroundings became blurry and he found it more difficult to breathe by the second. If Riddle was not going to let go of him any time soon, they would both collapse when the last bit of strength would give out on their aching bodies.

Fortunately the dark wizard seemed to be aware of this fact as well or his endurance must have reached its limit too, for he released his hold on Harry's arm and they both stumbled back a few steps, panting heavily.

For several minutes, the only thing that interrupted the otherwise prevailing silence in the room was the sound of their straining breaths.

"Turns out I underestimated you, Potter." Said Riddle quietly and was so the first to speak again.

"Turns out you did, Riddle." Replied Harry.

Silence filled the room once more, this time interrupted by the younger.

"What did you mean by saying you weren't able to resist the bond?" Determined not to let any reaction of the other slip his attention, he watched him very closely.

Riddle was not meeting his eyes anymore. Even more, he turned his back on Harry like he had done before, with the slight difference this time that the younger saw him wrapping his arms around himself, as he tilted his head back and seemed to be looking at the ceiling.

"I couldn't do anything, because I didn't have the power to."

"But-"

"It's gone."

For a moment Harry stared at the elder's back, before he echoed questioningly. "Gone?"

What does he mean 'gone'? His power? Surely he can't be talking about his magic. Voldemort not able to do magic anymore? How would that be possible? That's just-

Tom turned back around to Harry and faced him, an unreadable expression on his face, as he said: "My magic is gone, Harry."