Tom waited in silence, trying to gauge Harry's reaction as his heart beat raced. After a few moments of nothing he threw himself onto his bed with an angry sigh. Infuriated and euphoric that Harry hadn't come after him for slamming his door.

They didn't slam doors, and they didn't lock doors; for the past few months though, they didn't even need doors to put distance between them.

Even before the words came out of his mouth, Tom knew they weren't the right things to say. He didn't know why he was following his friends' examples towards mudbloods, and he didn't know why he found enraging Harry so much easier than getting along with him now a days. He liked seeing some type of response out of Harry besides his stupid smile as he just agreed with everything that was tearing them apart!

Tom shook his head to get rid of those thoughts as he took a deep breath. He resigned himself to climbing under his covers and going to bed. He wasn't going to go apologize. He wasn't wrong; it was Harry's fault they weren't getting along.

That's what Tom was telling himself anyway.

He woke up groggy and overheated as he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. He looked around blearily and realized that he still had a few hours, at least, before classes started for the day. He wondered, however, why Harry hadn't woken him up. Usually, the older man woke Tom up early enough to take a shower so they could have breakfast in their rooms.

He shrugged it off as Harry still being angry at him. He got out of bed lazily, moving to his dresser to pull out a set of clothes for his morning shower.

He couldn't believe how unfair the older man was being. Life wasn't fair, Tom knew that, but it seemed that Harry was going out of his way to block Tom at every turn, and that wasn't going to continue to happen. Not if Tom had anything to say at any rate.

He washed almost obsessively, making sure he was completely clean, like he always did, before getting out of the shower. Once he'd dried off and changed into his clean clothes, the towel hanging from his wet hair, he stepped into the hallway warily. As overbearing as Harry could be sometimes, there had never been a time, that Tom could remember, when Harry hadn't been active in the morning. He'd check on Tom every so often, to remind him breakfast was getting cold or that classes started soon.

As distant as they'd been, and as much as they'd been arguing, Tom had to ask himself if he'd really pushed Harry so far away that the man didn't care to do things like that anymore. He felt the dread and anger hit his stomach as his eyes burned slightly and his throat closed minutely. He padded down the hall quietly and ducked into Harry's room, looking around the empty space to realize the room hadn't been touched the night before. He doubled back to his room and grabbed his wand before padding softly towards their living room.

"Harry?" He called softly. He heard a shifting noise before calling again, "Harry, this isn't funny!" He spoke at a normal level. His voice sounded like a shout in the quiet room.

He moved further in to see Harry on the couch, a glass knocked onto the floor where it laid in the puddle of its contents.

"Harry?" Tom moved closer, almost as if he expected the man to jump up and scare him, he called again, though without any type of movement or response from Harry, and felt his anxiety rising quickly. He rushed to the man, shaking his shoulders as he dropped to the floor besides him. "Harry, wake up, wake up! Harry! Dad, wake up!"

As Tom realized shaking and screaming wasn't going to wake the older man, he sprinted from the room, screaming.

"Help! Someone help!"

It didn't take long for students and staff alike to stop and stare. To Tom's chagrin, Abraxas was the first to come up to him anxiously asking, "What's wrong, Tom? What is it?"

Tom tried to control his breathing enough to answer, ignoring the gasps to his admission, "It's Harry, he won't wake up. I tried to shake him, and I even yelled, but he won't wake up!"

Before Tom could even continue, Abraxas grabbed his small hand in his own and took off at a run towards Harry's quarters, yelling as he did so, "I need the mediwizard in Professor Potter's rooms immediately!"

Tom only heard the hushing of students as the professors tried to keep them away from his and Harry's rooms as Abraxas dragged him in that direction. He went with the motion without any resistance, hurt and fear curling deep in his gut as the man led him back towards Harry.

Was all their fighting worth it if something like this could possibly take Harry away from him? Was all this childishness worth it in the long run? Had he forgotten how precious life could be? How easily it could be taken away, at the most inopportune times? Had he forgotten the stories of his mother?

Abraxas dropped his hand when they entered the room Harry was in, before rushing to the other man. He lifted Harry into a sitting position as he put a few fingers against the curve of Harry's neck, his other hand pushing Harry's hair away from his face. Abraxas felt Harry's forehead, presumably checking for a fever. Then the mediwizard was there, and Tom watched as Abraxas was pushed out of the way too and the witch went to work on Harry. She made disapproving sounds every few moments as she moved her wand in patterns Tom could only describe as random, even though they were probably intricate spells he'd never know of.

"Very malnourished, sleep deprived, over-worked, stressed, and most likely worrying his little heart out. It's not a wonder the poor dearie passed out cold!" She admonished. The words were aimed at no one, but Tom felt them deep in the pit of his stomach as he analyzed Harry's behavior again.

The man was such an easy person to read, even when he wasn't. Stubbornness, anger, new rules; Harry wasn't just being a jerk. He was being jealous, he was hurt; he was reacting the same way Tom probably would if their positions were reversed. He was trying to maintain some control on the situation, trying to replace a sense of normality between them.

Tom could understand perfectly now, and he felt so very guilty, even though he knew Harry was at fault as well.

"Must he go to the Infirmary?" He asked quietly, his voice cracking suddenly.

The adults in the room looked at him awkwardly for a moment before the mediwizard decided to speak, "I suppose he could stay in here, if there was another adult to take care of him. That does not include you, Mister Riddle. I mean a real adult." She stated firmly.

Tom's gaze almost dropped to the floor in disappointment. He didn't want Harry anywhere besides here, in their home. His head quickly rose, however, when he heard Abraxas speak.

"I'll take care of him for you, Madam, if that's alright, that is." The man spoke smoothly, his face kind as he favored the witch with a smile.

"Oh! Of course, Mister Malfoy, I mean, if it isn't too much trouble for you, I suppose it could be arranged."

"Please do then, I'll move Mister Potter into his room in the mean time." Abraxas said as he leaned down and pulled Harry up into his arms securely, "You'll show me where it is, right Tom?" he asked, turning towards the youngest male.

Tom could only nod as he led Abraxas out of the room, and away from the annoying mediwizard, without another word. For all of his faults, Abraxas sure was useful sometimes. Now, only if he'd come to the realization that he'd have Harry under the circumstances that Tom was dead and buried. The boy continued that thought thunderously to himself as jealously simmered through his body.

He was almost too angry at the man to actually take him to Harry's room. The man didn't deserve to be in that room! He'd only been in there once before, and if Tom had it his way, the man would never enter the room again once he'd put Harry on the bed. He looked over his shoulder and saw Harry lying limply in the man's arms. He squashed his jealously and dislike for the man as he opened Harry's door fully and led the man in. He pulled back the blanket on 'Harry's' side of the bed and moved out of the way so Abraxas could set him down. They only spent a few moments in awkward silence before the mediwizard came bustling in with her wand out and her poise frantic.

Smugness overcame him as Malfoy was pushed out of the room for a few moments, and Tom sat on the opposite bedside as the mediwizard began waving her wand over Harry's form in practiced movements. Tom vaguely recognized a few spells that would help Harry sleep through the night before the witch began rummaging around in her bag for a few vials. She pulled out a nutrient potion, and a few bottles of draught that Tom was sure were to keep Harry going back to sleep.

He ended up under the blankets curled up at Harry's side as the mediwizard wrote out instructions and continued to monitor Harry's temperature and other functions as she held a vial to his lips and massaged it down his throat. Vaguely, Tom heard a door opening and closing; two voices talking, a man sighing, but he was tired. It was warm and Harry was okay. He ignored the fact he had classes and allowed himself to fall asleep with Harry's robes clenched in his fist.

There was the methodical turning of pages, like someone was reading a book. There was a fire crackling and accompanying it was a soft snore that was easily spotted as someone deep asleep.

Tom blinked a few times hazily, enjoying the warmth he felt curled up in bed next to Harry. Used to the man's snoring, he realized that wasn't what had woken him up. He sat up slowly, a hand automatically moving to smoothe his hair down. He watched Abraxas as the man sat on Harry's other side in a chair, his legs crossed as a book rested on his knee.

"What time is it?"

"About seven in the evening,"

"Has he woken up yet?"

"No, the madam was very direct when saying he wouldn't wake up earlier than tomorrow afternoon, you were asleep by then however, so you wouldn't have heard.

Tom almost scowled at the man, before he realized a reaction would only feed his ego. He shrugged and lay back down next to Harry, snuggling against the man's side. "So you'll be here until then,"

"Yes, unless you'd rather have Harry moved to the infirmary. I know you aren't very fond of me."

"I'm not a very social person, it's alright. I'd rather not be in the infirmary all night, and I know he hates waking up there."

"Yes, social necessities seem to run more strongly in purebloods than anyone else. You're not really Harry's though are you, so you must have been much nastier from the root. Harry has a soft hand; he must have molded you according to his little morals. He's an overly kind person."

"Good enough reason for you to stay away from him," Tom spat, feeling the blood remark, "His being around you might turn his soul black."

"Oh, come now, Tom. I'm not quite that bad. I'm doing this for you, aren't I?"

"No, you're doing this for yourself. You're doing this because you know the kindness it would usually induce would coax Harry towards you."

"He really does hang on to the smallest kindnesses."

"He likes to think there's still good in the world. He looks for the best in people."

"Like he did for you," Abraxas shot back scathingly.

"Precisely, be reminded, though, I came first. You're replaceable." Tom murmured sweetly before burying his face against Harry's shoulder and forcing himself back to sleep and away from the heated conversation between him and Malfoy.

The second time Tom woke up, the room was dark and silent. He reached out next to him, already telling from the cool sheets around him that Harry wouldn't be in bed still. He wasn't surprised when his hand reached emptiness, and he sat up in bed to gain his bearings. He went through his morning absolutions, especially a shower and a change of clothes, before making his way to the kitchen where he could hear the tinkle of glass and silverware.

As he walked into the kitchen, he was met with the scene of Abraxas pouring Harry more orange juice as the two ate and conversed quietly. Harry went to stand and greet him, hug him even; but the smile was strained and Tom motioned him to cease as he made himself a plate and sat down, feeling like the third wheel.

He knew he had precedence over Abraxas, and he knew Harry cared for him more than anyone else, but Tom was mad jealous, and he would admit it to himself at the very least.

"I'm happy you're feeling better, Harry," it was honest and as Tom looked sideways at the man so Abraxas couldn't see his expression, his heart warmed at Harry's soft smile.

"I'm sorry to have worried you. Thank you for taking care of me and getting help."

"You would have done the same for me."

"Abraxas, thank you as well for staying here and watching us. I hate waking up in the infirmary. It was nice to wake up in my bed. When I went down, I couldn't help but groan to myself, wondering how long I'd be stuck in the infirmary. It's one of my most loathed places to be."

"It wasn't a bother at all, Harry, I was very happy to help."

Tom continued to eat his breakfast in silence, noticing the awkwardness that seemed to surround them as they ate. It was odd having a third person at the table. Meals, especially morning and evening, were something that Harry and he shared intimately. Neither one of them was required for anything besides lunch. Even when they'd been fighting, or at odds ends with each other, they'd always had their meals together. It didn't matter how strained the silences were or how annoyed with one the other was. It was like a sacred ritual, and having Abraxas sitting in on a breakfast with them made Tom feel violated.

He didn't understand how he could go from being so frustrated with Harry to feeling so put out with something he'd taken for granted before it'd been interrupted. He focused his attention on the two adults slyly, continuing his breakfast as he heard the two of them whisper back and forth; his attention on them unbeknownst to either.

"Are you going back to classes today?"

"No, I think I'm going to take a week off. I spoke to the Headmaster about it this morning."

"Will you stay at Hogwarts for the duration, or will you go home for a break?"

"I think I'm going to go home,"

"You shouldn't go unaccompanied,"

"Don't be silly," Harry laughed softly, "I'm taking Tom with me. He's so advanced in his classes, Headmaster Dippet made the exception. Besides, he knows how badly I've been over-exerting myself lately, and he's more than happy to give me the time off to recuperate."

"Will you be alright getting their on your own?" Abraxas asked. Tom could almost swear he heard concern leaking through the man's voice, but he knew better than that. Malfoy was far colder than he let on. Harry wasn't the type of person that would recognize that though.

"Professor Dumbledore offered to take us when I spoke to Headmaster Dippet this morning, I didn't see reason to decline."

"When do you leave?"

"Whenever we're ready I suppose, before noon I'm hoping. I'm already tired and I've just woken up. I don't think I could wait too late, I'd have to postpone it until tomorrow."

"No, you should leave earlier, you deserve a break. You have been running yourself ragged lately. Why, I don't know."

Tom pushed his plate away and stood up from the table, leaving the two wizards alone as he went and gathered his things. He packed himself a bag of clothes. Clothes to play in and clothes to go out in, before going to Harry's room and doing the same; he left any wizarding clothing, though. He only took muggle clothes. He left his school books and homework, but remembered to take his pillow and Harry's favorite pair of pants.

Then he hid out in Harry's room, relaxed and content as he lay in the older man's bed. He looked back on sitting between Abraxas and Harry at the table, eating breakfast. He was startled to realize that he was being jealous over nothing. As much time as Harry spent with Abraxas. It wasn't the blonde man that Harry was worrying himself sick over. He was worrying himself sick over Tom, and even though Tom was upset Harry had went down like that, and it had been scary, it proved something to Tom.

Even though Abraxas was spiteful to him and smug about the time he spent with Harry. He wasn't Harry's priority, and he was under no circumstances Harry's number one.

That was reserved for Tom, and the younger man wouldn't let anyone take that from him or from Harry, no matter how much they quarreled and no matter how much Tom manipulated others.

He wanted other people in his life besides Harry though. He wanted…friends. There was a difference between Harry and friends. Harry was his, friends were just there.

"Tom?"

The younger man looked up, pulling himself from his thoughts as he gave Harry a soft look, "Yes?"

"What are you doing in here by yourself with the light off; did you eat enough at breakfast?"

"Of course. You and Abraxas were talking, though, I didn't want to intrude. I thought you liked spending time with him?"

"I like spending time with you too, Tom. Much more so than I do with Abraxas though, I care for you much more than I do him. He just passes the time when you're with your friends. With you growing up and meeting new people, I'm just kind felt of left behind."

"No, you're not," Tom argued.

"Shush, Tom, it's true and you know it. It's why we've been so at odds ends lately. You're making new friends, learning new things, having new experiences. You're going to change. I've already been through that change. So, lately I've been hanging around someone who's also gone through that change. I'll be here when you're done exploring though, okay. Just become someone you're proud of, don't become someone everyone else is proud of. At the end of the day, you won't know if you did it for yourself or the people around you. You'll hate it."

"What if I want to be someone you're proud of?"

"Then just be yourself, kiddo." Harry answered back with a smile, his hand reaching out to ruffle the younger boy's hair.

"You're not going to let him escort us home, are you?" Tom asked, waiting a few beats before he continued, "He wouldn't leave quickly if you did. He likes you, as in likes you likes you."

Harry laughed merrily turning to look at Tom and ruffling his hair fondly, "I thought you were above speaking like a silly tween, Tom."

The boy flushed an angry, embarrassed red as he glared at Harry, "He wants in your pants, he wants to fuck you. Nothing more and nothing less. I'm not letting him near you!" Tom gritted out.

Harry looked at the boy, almost scandalized in his slight shock, "You've really got to stop picking up on your associates' mannerism. That's a very vulgar word. It's not proper to say, it's ugly."

"You wanted direct, not quaint, Harry,"

"True,"

"You are feeling better, right?" Tom asked quietly and as leaned against Harry's side.

"How many times do I have to reassure you?"

"Until I believe you,"

"When will that be?"

"When you're not hiding it or lying."

"Touché,"

"I hadn't meant to hide anything from anyone; I'm just used to being on my own, of taking care of myself. I look at it as if I'm a burden to the people I'm around if I somehow weigh them down, by being sick or tired or hurt. I'm not quite used to having other people look out for my well being; or very much caring as long as it doesn't interfere with certain things, like work."

"Well, if I have to become used to you looking after me and acquiesce to your intruding tendencies, than I demand you do the same. I don't want that to happen again, I don't want you to go down like that again. It was heart-stopping. Not to mention I had to deal with Abraxas for such a long period of time. You owe me for that. I know you hate waking up in the infirmary, but I hate Abraxas more."

"I don't understand your hate for him. He's very much a gentleman. Nothing like others I've met like him."

"It's a facade; it's what he shows on the outside until he gets what he wants. People like him, especially Slytherins like him, are manipulative. They're raised to play people like a master. He'll feed you sweet lies until you believe them, and then rip them away as he gets what he wants." Tom spat, his mood dark and his face scrunched up in anger.

"How do you know such a thing, Tom?"

"Because I'm the same way." Tom stated. His voice was so filled with conviction and self-malice that Harry stayed quiet for a long while.

"You're like that with your friends." Harry stated, it seemed like it was a question and answer, all in one.

"Yes, they do things for me. They're like trainable dogs. You tell them to jump, and if you have the public image, they ask how high."

"That's a very cruel thing to do."

"They're better off under my influence than anyone else's. I may not be able to sway their outlook on muggles and muggleborns or halfbloods, but at least there aren't any public attacks on the students that fall under those categories. It's very easy to tell them that violence like that would be frowned upon, especially when purebloods are the stronger species, and it should be our...responsibility to help those that don't know any better."

"You didn't believe that at the beginning of the summer."

"No, I didn't understand then either. I'm one of them though. I'm a halfblood. No matter how much I wish I wasn't, I am. They hated me for it in the beginning, absolutely treated me cruelly because my blood wasn't pure. No one deserves to be out casted like that because of their blood. Something they had no part in. I won't be a part of such a lowly thing as hate towards my own species and race; nothing like those disgusting muggles who unleashed genocide on an entire ethnicity. We're all just people."

"You're wise beyond your years, Tom."

"You've said so before."

"Yeah, I have, haven't I? I think I'm getting to something."

They were home by one.

Tom marveled on how quickly the aggravation disappeared between them in a different atmosphere. He put their things in their perspective rooms before sitting down on the couch to read with Harry. They fell into an old habit of sitting closely so they could read the same book. Tom usually had to wait a few seconds longer to turn the page since Harry wasn't as quick a reader as he was though. Page by page, he realized he was starting to read broken sentences continually, and turning to the next page without regard to Harry's place. He was about to say something, but as he turned to look at the older man, he realized that Harry had been asleep for a while.

He closed the book, pulled the blanket down over them from the back of the couch, and decided a nap wouldn't hurt them. He laid Harry down next to him and fell asleep against the green-eyed boy.

It was much later, and far much darker when Harry woke up. He was warm and content. A little sore from being tired, but content; he continued to lie next to Tom, evaluating his own behavior as of later. He'd been flippant, almost uncaring with the younger man. He allowed him to do as he pleased with no consequence and they continued to drift further and further away. He'd been so enraptured with the idea that Abaraxas represented: a friend, a confident, a normality he hadn't had since Ron and Hermione. That he'd completely and utterly been unintentionally irresponsible.

He was parallel with Tom. Even into his late teens, he'd still been awkward around the Weasleys, around Remus, around everyone who had accepted him at once and whole heartedly. The ones he'd always had an underlying fear would turn out like the Dursleys.

Time didn't heal all wounds, it only made them numb. The more Harry began to drift away, the more feeling Tom's wounds invoked.

Harry didn't want to be like the Dursleys. He didn't want to be Tom's version of the Dursleys.