Harry was regretting his idea to take Avery on a disguised date. It was something he'd always wanted to, but now was not the time. Still, what would he tell Avery? It was too late to back out. Especially when he showed up grinning ear to ear, and smelling of after shave.

They'd walked together down to Hogsmeade, making sure to walk several feet apart. Harry heard a voice behind him and jumped, for a moment thinking it was Riddle.

The last thing he wanted was to run into him today.

Snow had covered most of the grounds and Harry was thankful for his scarf as the cold wind chilled him. He wished he could pull Avery closer for warmth, but of course he couldn't.

When they made it to Hogsmeade, Harry opened the door for Avery.

"Thank you," he answered. "This is one of my favorite places." Avery smiled, giving Harry a gentle flutter of warmth in his stomach.

Harry lightly touched his elbow, making sure no one noticed. "Mine too."

Avery stepped up to the counter and ordered. "Can I have a butterbeer?" He reached into his pocket and pretended to search for his galleons. "I forgot my money."

Expecting this, Harry stepped up behind him. "No problem. I'll take care of it."

Riddle walked in and Harry's heart shot from his chest into his mouth, beating in his teeth. Why would he think he'd be able to avoid Riddle? Especially when he knew that Harry and Avery would be here.

"What is it?" asked Avery, leaning over to Harry.

Harry took the butterbeers and walked with his back turned to Riddle. "Nothing. It's fine. Thank you. Let's sit down."

They sat down at small table by a frosty window. Harry tried to ignore Tom, to ignore his sweaty palms. The reactions he was having more and more near Tom Riddle. Reactions that made him hate himself.

Avery pressed his leg against Harry's, took a sip of butterbeer and leaned in. "Want to go to Honeyduke's after this?"

Harry wasn't sure if he really meant the candy store if that was code for something. Either way, he wasn't focused enough to give a solid answer.

"Sure." He smiled, but he was having trouble paying attention. His mind on Riddle who was leaning against the bar, a green scarf tied around his neck that made the blue in his eyes shimmer like shards of glass from across the room.

Why was Riddle here alone? He could hear the faint mumble of Avery talking, but he couldn't make out the words. When a stout wizard blocked his view, Harry moved to see better. Avery must not have noticed because he elbowed Harry in the side.

"Sorry, sweetheart," said Avery, too loudly. Much too loudly.

Harry stomach clattered to his feet. "Avery..."

A stocky Ravenclaw boy stopped, head whipping toward them. "What did you just call him?" he asked Avery, venom in his voice. A blond haired younger boy stood at the Ravenclaw's side.

"Nothing. I didn't..." Avery stuttered, face red.

"Nothing. I didn't..." They mocked.

Harry bolted from his chair, nearly knocking it to the ground. "Grow up and back off. It's none of your business," he snarled. He'd been having trouble controlling his anger recently and these two idiots were not helping.

The bigger Ravenclaw shoved Harry, but the younger boy just leaned over to Avery and said, "That's disgusting, you know."

"What? Nothing. It wasn't anything." Avery buried his face in his hands.

Harry had his wand out, pointed at the Ravenclaws's chest. "Just leave now."

"Or what, snake?" The Ravenclaw drew his wand. Just what he needed a duel...or maybe he did need it...a chance to fit, to win, to control.

Riddle had made his way over, arms crossed, his eyes like chilled diamonds. "Is there a problem here?"

"Riddle, I'll take care of it," Harry spat. Did he have to come over here and make things worse? Mock him in front of everybody? What else would he want?

Tom's eyes gleamed, dark and terrifying, as he grabbed the Ravenclaw by his chubby arm. "You should go, like Potter suggested. Now," he hissed.

"Yes, Riddle." The Ravenclaw boy trembled.

"Sorry, Riddle," said the younger boy and they scurried out of the Three Broomsticks together.

Harry had forgotten that though he wasn't Lord Voldemort in the traditional sense yet, that he still was. Riddle was powerful, demanding. Terrifying and authoritative.

Tom placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, making his breath catch. "You two, all right? Where's Avery?" asked Tom, looking half concerned, half amused.

Harry glanced out the window. With his hood up, Avery was hurrying back to the castle. Fantastic...he just left Harry to deal with the problem he caused by himself. He kept forgetting that Avery was a Slytherin, and Slytherins looked out from themselves.

So why did Riddle help me?

Harry left after Avery without saying a word to Tom, though he didn't actually go to find Avery. He was too mad at him to have a conversation about what happened. As the night went on, guilt crept up inside Harry. Tom had helped him, pulled him out of a rough situation. He could at least say he was sorry for running out without a word.

"Can I come in?" Harry knocked on Tom's cracked-open bedroom door.

"If you must," drawled Riddle from inside.

Dry mouthed and shaking, Harry stepped inside, greeted by the now familiar sight of Tom's bed, dresser and desk. "Riddle," he managed to say.

Tom raised a slender eyebrow, his uniform shirt half-way unbuttoned, revealing his pale, hairless chest. "What?" he sneered.

How was he going to manage this? "I'm..."

"Your...?" Tom crossed his arms, looking stern, but still..alluring.

Harry forced himself to stare down at his feet so he wouldn't notice the elegant curve of Tom's shoulders, his slim waist, his perfect delicate hands. "Do I have to say it?" growled Harry.

"Yes." Tom was now close enough Harry breathed in his scent, like old books. His pants were slightly loose around his hips, showing off the deeply set bones where his shirt was a bit too tight.

Just say it. "Sorry, okay. I'm sorry. Are you happy?" Harry slammed his hand flat against the wall, startling himself more than anyone.

Tom looked into a distance that wasn't there in such a small room. Like maybe somewhere underneath all that control was something broken. Something he couldn't repair. "I'm never happy, Potter."

That something inside harry settled deep and heavy in his chest. His voice lowered as he stepped closer to Tom. They were nearly toe to toe. "Just...thank you, okay?" Harry breathed.

There was a pause then Tom said, "I told you going on a fake date with Avery was a poor choice."

Harry rolled his eyes and took a few steps toward Tom's bedroom door. "Not because of that because you have this weird thing with the two of us being together."

"It's not a weird thing." A flash of hurt glimmered on Tom's face.

"It's incredibly weird," said Harry, wishing he didn't notice how beautiful Tom was, how vulnerable he could seem sometimes. That was the worst...the most terrifying thing.

"Why?"

"It's hard to explain."

Tom closed the gap between them, his hand on Harry's stomach, fingers playing across his abs, each touch melting into his skin. "I feel so drawn to you, Potter. Connected. I know you feel it too. You have to. It's too...powerful...for you not to feel it." His whisper was deep, harsh and so lovely it made Harry want to fold in on himself and disappear.

"So what if I do, that doesn't change anything. I don't like you and don't trust you." Pain broke Harry's words. So why I am so attracted to you?

"You don't know me." Tom traced Harry's cheekbones with his thumbs.

"I can't know you, Tom." It was better, easier, to think of Tom as Lord Voldemort, an idea, an embodiment of evil, than this. Beautiful eyes and soft skin and a touch that could turn the world to ash.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not going to be your pet." Harry tore away from Tom's powerful, entrancing grasp.

A pause, another pause, and then a slow whisper, "I never asked you to."

Harry tried not to look at him, but failed again and again. The dim light made his eyelashes glow golden and delicate. No Harry couldn't give into this man. "I've seen the way you treat Avery. You won't treat me like that, control me. Never."

Tom huffed, slamming his fist down on his desk, rattling the ink and quill. "You don't know anything about that."

"You never even kissed him." Harry was reaching for anything to explain why he couldn't, shouldn't, be with Tom, when his body was begging for it.

"Because he asked me not to. He's come to me every single time, Potter. He likes it like that!" shouted Tom, his face a bright, brilliant, pulsing red.

"You're lying." Harry stared down, shaking his head. That's not how Avery had told it. Well, he hadn't really explain much. Harry just sort of filled in the gaps based on what he knew about Riddle.

Tom caught Harry's chin, pulling their gazes together. There was heavy, unfiltered desperation in his voice. "Do you know how tired I am, Harry? Everyone comes to me, day in and day out. You two morons get yourself into trouble because you can't manage to be discrete about your shagging-"

"We're not..." Harry protested.

Tom had Harry's face in both his hands. "I'm the best student in the school, Harry. I'm a prefect. I have responsibilities you can't begin to understand. I'm tired, damn it. And thought maybe you, you seemed like a man who wanted something to control...just for awhile."

Harry's heart was tripping and spinning and tearing apart. The universe was just not making sense anymore. "I'm sorry. What are you asking?"

"You hate me. I'm not sure why, but you do. Outside of this room, I'm in charge, of everyone, of you. And if you ever tell anyone, I'll make you regret it. But what if in here...I shouldn't be saying this...just leave...forget." He dropped his hands from Harry and suddenly Harry felt he was falling through a black sky into nothing.

Desire pulsing through him, Harry caught Tom's wrist. "Shut up."

"What?" spat Tom.

"Shut the hell up." Harry grasped the back of Tom's neck and couldn't take it anymore. Not another second.

He crushed his lips to Tom's. Hard. Furious. Harry bit down as hard as he could. Tom winced, but just pulled Harry closer.

"Is that what you want?" asked Harry, breathing into Tom's mouth, his whole body a million little flames consuming him, threatening to burn the whole world along with him.

There was a long pause as their breaths mixed together. "Yes."

Harry wasn't careful with Tom like with Avery. Their lips met over and over. Fast and with total abandon. He dug his fingers into Tom's hips as he slammed him hard against the wall, shoving one of his legs in between Riddle's. Tom let out a small, deep growl.

Tom's hands were in his hair or running down his back on his thighs. Everywhere. What was wrong with Harry? Why was he loving this? He shouldn't be.

"Avery," Harry said, his heart dropping into his feet. What had he done? How could he have? Tom hadn't even tried to make him. There was no reason other than how much he wanted to.

Without a word, Harry tore himself away from Tom and ran out of his bedroom. His insides shattering into tiny little pieces, an avalanche of mistakes that would drown him. His mind told him how wrong he was, but his body, oh Merlin, his body had never felt anything like that before.

He was the worst person in the world. In that moment, he felt like he was even worse than Voldemort.

Thanks for reading. I thought it would be interesting to do a role flip for them when it comes to the physical stuff. I hope I explained why Tom feels like he does about it and why Harry, being one of the few people not afraid to stand up to him, is the one he goes to, on top of the strong connection and attraction they have for each other outside of that. Anyway, Harry just can't make up his mind. Can he? Please review :)