Author's Note: Short chapter. Someone commented very good questions. All which will have answers do not worry. Enjoy! And feel free to review.

Harry ran fingers through Tom's hair, both out of breath from the deeds they'd just completed. Legs entangled, skins sparkling with sweat, the two were quite exhausted. Granted they only did what they usually did, hand stroking, maybe some oral thrown in there, but for some reason something was different.

As the two lay there on the bathroom flood, their robes used as a form over cover separating them from the ground, they couldn't stop the flow of thought running through their minds. It'd been a week since Harry confessed his love for Tom, leaving both boys with plentiful questions.

Harry's question more along the lines of 'why can't we talk about it', and Tom's being 'why me'. Neither one was asked, fear of the answers that could potentially be returned. But with the unspoken words drew up a certain passion. Both boys have a desire that isn't being fulfilled in any other way but each other. So laying there, limbs tied in knots, enjoying the silent sound of their breathing, the unanswered questions were only a side thought.

Tom locked his eyes to the ceiling, in a daze from not only the blissful feeling of coming down from his high, but also from thinking about Harry's love for him. Someone actually has seen something in Riddle worth loving. It confused the boy to no end. He was sure he had strong feelings in return for Harry, but were they love? There could be no telling exactly how strongly he cared for the boy without any prior knowledge on the topic.

The only person he could ever admit to loving was himself. Although, he figured that didn't particularly count in a sense the emotion was much more selfless than confidence or even utter ego.

To be quite frank, Tom never even considered he had the capacity to love anyone. He lived his whole life in an orphanage with caretakers only worried about their next paycheck and children who feared Tom more than wanting to befriend him. For that reason, there was no one in his childhood he could ever feel so strongly for. Then there was Hogwarts.

He supposed he loved the school. Being here made him feel happier than anywhere else. Every staircase, classroom, bathroom, even the cracks beneath the floorboards. He adored everything about this place that made him special. Tom was different from all the weak muggles he lives with at the orphanage. He was stronger, unique, full of magic. That was one thing that couldn't be taken away from him when he left this school. His magic.

Granted, he couldn't use it outside the school for another two years at least, leaving him trapped in one state when he's home. If he would ever consider that filth his home.

No... Hogwarts was his true home. Even after school hours, when he resided in the discomfort of his springy bed and small spaced room, the first thing he thinks about in the morning is Hogwarts, and it's the last thing he thinks about before he goes to bed. There was no denying if he knew anything about love, he felt it strongest for this place.

Tom turned his attention back to the relaxed boy sprawled out on his chest, seeking anything for warmth. He twisted his body, which was completely naked, and wrapped his arms around Harry. The other boy let out a peaceful breath.

Did he love Harry? That questioned ailed him all week, leaving him restless at nights, exhausted in the mornings. There was a fiery passion about them he enjoyed. He loved making Harry squirm with pleasure, begging him and saying his name during his writhing mess. It brought him joy when the boy would seemingly return the favor, giving Tom the same courtesy of pleasure.

He also liked just spending time with the boy, whether it's secretly bumping legs under the table, or Harry sneaking through the dark commons to Tom's dorm. He liked the attempts the boy would make to show Tom a normal experience of things such as holidays. Never has he had someone try so hard for him before.

He couldn't even imagine his life without Harry. He even attended his game on Wednesday evening, and despite not knowing anything Tom still managed to sit down and cheer for the boy, maybe even enjoying it more than he'd like to admit.

For better or for worse, Harry has changed Tom. He no longer finds comfort in being alone. He is most comfortable around the company of the boy. However, he could also say the same about being in the Chamber of Secrets.

His thoughts took a turn, heading straight for the hissy voice of the giant basilisk seeking his loyalty. Tom hadn't decided how he was going to do it, but he was going to save Harry from the fate lying ahead. There was no way, love or no love involved, he could let the boy be killed. Even if it meant risking the rest of the operation.

Tom's eyes widened, focusing on the messy brown hair tickling his chin. Did he really not care about what happened to the rest of their plan in order to protect the boy? He figured half of that was true, but there was absolutely no way he didn't thing the rest of the plan was important.

Biting his lip, he had decided a while ago that this was the most necessary thing needed to be done. Even Harry would understand in the end. And who knows? Him and the boy could rise to power together, clearing mudbloods and just being-

"What are you thinking about?" Harry's voice was soft against the crook of his neck. Tom felt chills from the warm breath on his skin.

He didn't see any reason to lie. "You."

Harry could admit he was thinking of the other boy in return. "Are you okay?"

Tom gently pulled away from Harry in order to meet his eyes. "Why do you love me?" His blue eyes searched for any signs in the green ones, trying to pick out anything that could be a clear answer. "How do you know you love me?"

"To be completely honest, Tom, I have no idea." Harry averted his eyes. "I know I shouldn't love you, for many reasons, but sometimes our heart does things that surprise us." He noticed Tom's confused expression. "Not everything has to be explained, Tom. Love doesn't need a definition. It's all about how you feel." Harry pointed to his heart to show him.

Gripping onto that information, Tom furthered his thinking, both boys moving to put their clothes on in order to get some sleep before the time to wake up fully arrives.

On the way back to the dorms, passing through the common's entrance, hands seeking the other for comfort, Tom spoke one more time before they went their separate ways. "What would happen to us if I didn't- no, if I couldn't love you back?"

Harry knew the answer, thinking back to Dumbledore's letter. Instead of lingering too deeply on that thought, he only shook his head. "I can't dictate how you feel." Was all he said before leaving to his own room.

He had never thought about that before. What if Tom wasn't capable of loving another person? Although it didn't seem impossible, Harry refused to dwell on that thought, knowing what would need to happen if he failed his mission.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he laid his hand back on his pillow, succumbing to the dark of his sleep.