When Harry awoke the next morning he found himself alone in Tom's bedroom. The curtains had been swept aside to reveal the light grey clouds of mid November, and the house was pleasantly quiet. All that could be heard was the pleasant sound of birds singing and the wind blowing through the few tall trees near Tom's home. After assuming that Tom had awoken earlier, leaving him to catch up on some sleep, Harry got up and changed into robes calmly, pondering the day.
Harry felt slight pain when he began moving around and he guessed that this is what had awoken him initially. However, he didn't give it much thought as he headed downstairs for breakfast. He was too content with being safe to let himself worry over such a vague problem, especially since being in Tom's home again made him happier than he could remember being in months.
Harry found Tom in the small library that was placed between the kitchen and the dining room on the bottom floor. Tom was resting in a comfortable armchair amongst a few piles of large books when Harry entered the room. Upon seeing him, Tom stood up. He tapped the spine of the book in his hands to mark where he was, before taking a few steps towards Harry, smiling.
"Good morning," Tom said, walking closer.
"Good morning," Harry responded, returning Tom's smile as keenly as the greeting.
"I was wondering only a moment ago whether you would wake up soon," Tom remarked softly. "Did you sleep well?"
"Very well," Harry assured him. "What time is it?"
"Around noon… You must be hungry."
"I can cook for myself," Harry reminded Tom, smirking. He felt Tom's hand clasping around his own.
"I enjoy cooking for you," Tom voiced, leading the way out of the library. They walked through the dining room, living room, and hallway, towards the kitchen. Harry never understood why Tom didn't just have a door connecting the kitchen and library, but Tom had said before that it would get too messy that way.
"You've been through so much as of late," Tom continued, "and when we are in my home there is nothing I like more than making you comfortable."
Harry gave a hum of laughter. He couldn't help but appreciate it when he could wake up in Tom's house without it being a problem. It was often difficult for them to stay over each other's houses overnight because the Death Eaters visited them so often. Harry was well aware that if they were found together constantly, or even almost constantly, the Death Eaters would start wondering why they were so inseparable.
Of course, they might not guess correctly that Harry and Tom were in a relationship, but it would be risky to bring them close to such a conclusion, particularly when Harry knew Tom would never be comfortable with it. As much as Tom cared about Harry, he would much rather hide their relationship than answer his friends' inquiries about it.
"Have any of the others been around today?" Harry asked as he sat down at the small kitchen table, vaguely watching Tom pour and prepare ingredients with a swish of his wand.
"Lestrange was around earlier to inform me that all was well, concerning our protection," Tom responded, putting a kettle to boil on the stove and commanding knives to chop up onions and other vegetables. "He was the only visitor, and he didn't stay for long. He dropped off another newspaper, however. It's from this morning."
Harry saw the newspaper now, resting on the other side of the table. He reached for it and glanced at the front page idly, finding no interest in the main article dedicated solely to the newest winners of a Quidditch match. Harry thought that he vaguely remembered reading about this story in the nineteen nineties, but there were more important things than Quidditch on his mind now.
"A lot of the others seem eager to stay here," Harry remarked, knowing that there were over twenty Death Eaters currently lingering around in Albania. "You'd think they would get scared after hearing that another Dark Arts group is trying to attack us."
"I don't believe they fully understand how powerful Grindelwald's followers are," Tom said, somewhat distracted by the food he was making. "Despite knowing how close Grindelwald came to taking over most of Europe, the others think that Grindelwald's followers are weak without Grindelwald around."
"But they know I was tortured," Harry stated, confused by this. "They know how long you struggled for to find me, so surely they know that Grindelwald's people are strong?"
"They think that since I rescued you without getting myself hurt, our enemies must not be as strong as we first thought," Tom elucidated. "I take this as both a complement and an insult… Yet mostly a complement, since our friends question the strength of our enemies now that Grindelwald's followers no longer have a leader like me."
Harry looked up. Tom, who stood with his back to Harry, paused in his work. He seemed to realise that he had said something wrong, because he turned around swiftly only a moment later.
"This is not to say that I am like Grindelwald," Tom corrected, staring into Harry's eyes as though determined to have this established. "I merely mean that my fiends think a strong leader is an essential feature of a successful Dark Arts group."
"I know what you meant," Harry dismissed, finding irony in the parallels between Grindelwald and Tom no matter what Tom said. He looked down at the newspaper in his hands, reflecting that it was times like these when he could barely believe his lies concerning Grindelwald were still not being questioned.
Then again, Harry supposed that Tom thought of himself as so much greater than Grindelwald, so much smarter. Tom probably thought that there was no one else like him, and he probably didn't realise that Harry's lack of discomfort at his chosen path was odd… Then again, maybe Tom did notice where Harry was apparently being delusional, and maybe Tom thought Harry was just generally foolish in this way…
"The others have changed quite a bit since you went away," Tom said, likely changing the subject so Harry wouldn't dwell upon his mistake. He turned away once more to continue cooking. "Many of them have taken time off of work merely to settle their curiosity about what it is that we do here. They care about helping us and learning about the Dark Arts more than they care about being completely safe. They believe in this group wholly, even if they scorn Grindelwald's."
"That's not much of a change," Harry remarked. "They were always going to join us again just for the Dark Arts and they've never cared about getting hurt before. They have enough money to do whatever they want to."
"Yet they're willingly choosing to join us, no matter how dangerous it might be," Tom observed, sounding satisfied with the thought. "They are so interested in the Dark Arts that they would do anything for me to continue teaching them what I know… Of course, a few of them have left, but I expect them to return in a few years' time, when my power is known by more people than our friends."
"Do you think even more people will join us then?" Harry asked indifferently.
"It's very likely," Tom answered. He was finished making breakfast now. "There are many wizards who are secretly dedicated to the Dark Arts, who would join us without hesitation. They, as well as my current friends, could one day become as useful to me as I am to them, perhaps."
Harry gave a weak smile as Tom set a plate of food in front of him. Before Harry could even begin eating, however, Tom had levitated a goblet from across the room to rest by Harry's right hand. Within the goblet was an odd, bubbling liquid of bright yellow, with a few brown and orange specks here and there. Harry recognised it as some sort of potion, rather than a refreshing drink. The smell told him as much.
"You should drink this," Tom said. "It will rid pain for fifteen hours – without the side effect of you being dangerously numbed and almost unable to feel anything physically. I must warn you about the taste, however."
"I'll be fine," Harry assured Tom as he picked up the goblet. The vague pain in his body was bothering him, he realised, and he knew it would put him off his food if he didn't get rid of it soon – much like the potion itself, which smelt very unpleasant…
Harry hesitated for a moment, before drinking the yellow liquid. He nearly vomited.
"I'm sorry," Tom commented quickly, watching Harry's reaction, "but it's the best thing that will help you at the moment. It will heal you as well as sooth you."
Harry sat up straighter in his chair, trying not to grimace too much as the taste of the potion lingered in his mouth. "It's not your fault," he spluttered honestly, still trying to ignore that awful taste.
Tom took the empty goblet from Harry's hands and conjured a fresh one full of water. Harry downed the water while Tom levitated the older goblet to the sink. Tom then moved around the table, picking up the neglected newspaper as he sat. Harry felt a lot better after water – and after the potion before it in general. He could feel his pain slowly fading. He was suddenly a lot hungrier, because the smell of fresh food replaced the nasty stench of the potion. The food was delicious and Harry was silent as he began eating. Tom had obviously eaten earlier, for only a cup of tea could be seen in front of him.
Harry had mostly been given water in Grindelwald's private imprisonment, but even that had been scarce. He couldn't remember being fed anything there… until memories of Emeric bringing him occasional small meals suddenly crossed his mind. Harry paused for a second, thinking about this. When Tom spoke again, Harry pushed the memories out of his mind to listen.
"It seems that today is the first day of no anti-Muggle crime that we have seen in months," Tom mentioned as he skimmed through some of the articles in the Daily Prophet. "In most of Europe, in fact… No wonder Lestrange reported that Avery was being sour."
"You don't suppose that's because I escaped from Grindelwald's people, do you?" Harry suddenly enquired.
"Do I think that your escape caused Avery to be sour?" Tom joked.
"No," Harry smiled. "Do you think me escaping is stopping crime?"
"That would certainly be ironic, considering you – and by extent I – would thus be the savour to any Muggle who might have been attacked by Grindelwald's people yesterday and today… But certainly, it's possible that you should be given the credit. It seems a very eager celebration for England, however. It's only coincidental that they found no older bodies for today's Daily Prophet edition…"
"They might be lying," Harry noted apathetically. His thoughts wandered to Grindelwald's followers while he took a sip of very warm tea. "The followers must have stopped in fear that I'd run and tell a Ministry what they're doing. But why didn't they attack anyone yesterday, before you found me?"
"Crime has been lessoning since about four days after you left, actually," Tom said, turning a page of the newspaper and glancing at Harry for a second. "I think it might have begun after our friends and I questioned Quentin's sister, which suggests that she is close to one of Grindelwald's followers – perhaps unknowingly."
"So," Harry began slowly, trying to get his head around it, "you think that the follower Quentin's sisters knows told all of Grindelwald's people that you were looking for Quentin?"
"I don't suppose that all of Grindelwald's followers knew someone was searching for Quentin," Tom corrected, "for that would have made Quentin hide even more securely. I'm guessing that the follower close to Quentin's sister was laughed at when he expressed his worry about me finding you. A few people probably believed him, and stopped some of their more public crime out of fear, but the leaders doubtlessly dismissed the whole idea, believing their building to be untraceable, their people undefeatable."
"And now that they've actually been defeated in some way, they're too scared to attack people," Harry added.
"Yes," Tom agreed. "Many of them seem to have had a sense of foreboding when one of their followers went missing, secretly captured by our friends and interrogated by me."
"Why did you have to capture one of the other followers?" Harry asked. "Didn't Quentin's sister know where Quentin was?"
"She hadn't a clue where he was," Tom clarified, "and the only useful information in her head was details on a few of Quentin's friends who she had seen one evening. I understood these were other followers and I sent our friends after them."
"Four days after I left?" Harry asked, repeating Tom's earlier words. "What happened in the last five days?"
Tom's eyes found Harry's over the Daily Prophet. He closed the newspaper within his hands slowly to give Harry his full attention.
"I got the information three days after you left, to be exact," Tom admitted, appearing not at all pleased to correct and recollect this. "You can imagine how this encouraged my friends and I to have a falling out this passed week…"
Harry was slightly annoyed when hearing this news, and he suddenly understood why Tom had been so harsh to his friends before. Six days to find one wizard… that was a lot of wasted time. Harry didn't want to blame anyone for him being trapped in Grindelwald's prison for nine days, yet he couldn't help but resent Tom's friends as he thought about this information…
"The fact that Quentin's sister was likely close to another follower is almost as irritating," Tom commented, perhaps noticing Harry's silent displeasure. "It is only a theory, yet it explains why anti-Muggle crime is blatantly stopping."
"But we know the follower exists now, at least," Harry pointed out indifferently, before he continued eating.
It would certainly be an odd thing if Muggle hatred ceased while two historical Dark Arts and anti-Muggle groups fought against each other, yet Harry had to say that it also made perfect sense. It seems that it is a natural human defect for one to fight against enemies with whom one could easily succeed and coincide with, if only spite could be forgotten. Grudges often prevail over one's initial desire to succeed when rivalry gets involved.
Harry was finished with breakfast a minute later. Upon seeing him stand up, Tom followed Harry, taking the dirty plate out of his hands and appearing close to kissing him as he smiled. The windows here were far too large for such privacy, however. Tom did nothing more than gaze at Harry before turning away, levitating the plate to the sink where it would be washed without their help.
"Do you wish to return to the library with me, to continue researching magic dedicated to our safety, or would you rather do something else?" Tom asked.
"Keeping this place safe is more important," Harry answered. "I can't think of much else to do, anyway."
"As you wish," Tom said, leading the way out of the room. Harry walked alongside him at the same tranquil pace. "You don't have to busy yourself with anything such as protecting this place, however. I can manage it, if you would rather watch the others or–"
"You know I hate being with the others," Harry interrupted, not keen upon hearing Tom's suggestions for other amusement if the Death Eaters were involved. "I'd much rather help you. At least that's more interesting and actually gets something done."
Tom smiled, and they headed into the library. "Yet I have to warn you that it might be uninteresting."
"Would you rather I didn't stay?" Harry asked, the idea only just occurring to him.
"I would rather you stay forever," Tom responded softly, gazing at Harry for a moment as though he wished there were neither windows here nor the risk of his friends visiting them. "Yet you know there are always inconveniences. To bore you would be one of them."
"I don't think you would read so much if you believed it was boring," Harry remarked, smiling as standing in one place now. "The only people who find it boring are the people who aren't doing it too."
Tom smiled back. "So much is true."
They stood in the centre of the rectangular room, between two large windows that shed light upon the collection of comfortable crimson sofas and armchairs nearby. Dark coffee tables could be seen under the sea of books that Tom had chosen to read today, but past this not a book was out of place. The door to the room was opposite them, and this as well as the windows was the only thing that interrupted the flow of bookshelves that were built from floor to ceiling, packed with a variety of volumes dedicated to different fields of ancient magic.
"You're too frail at the moment to help with the actual enchantments that I must use to protect everyone here, of course," Tom expressed, "but I don't see the harm in teaching you the magic. It would be safer to."
"I doubt there'll be a time when you won't be around to fix the enchantments protecting us," Harry mentioned. But Tom wouldn't risk this, it seemed.
"One never knows what might happen," he said, as he turned away from Harry to sit on one of the comfortable couches. He indicated for Harry to take the seat besides him. "It's very useful and intriguing magic, at any rate."
"It always is," Harry agreed, smirking as he walked forwards to sit close to Tom.
"I didn't think that I would have to learn such advanced shielding magic so soon," Tom explained while he picked up one of the books in front of them. "I thought such research would only be needed after around five years from now, when Ministries will begin wondering who I am. This isn't to say that I don't already know the basics of shielding magic, of course. I merely need to research more quickly now."
"I won't slow you down, will I?" Harry asked in concern.
"Even if you do, it would only be marginally," Tom answered, glancing at Harry for a moment to smile', "and I can't say that any slight distraction from you would be bothersome."
Harry smiled too, but couldn't think of anything to say. Tom looked back down at the book in his hands, thinking. Harry watched him, seeing the grin fade from his lips as his dark eyes examined the texture of the ancient leather. His thumb felt the material of the book for a time.
"I believe there are only a few hundred wizards following Grindelwald at this time," Tom voiced quietly. "Perhaps more than I assume, but I am sure that many of them will flee once we start attacking. Knowledge of our power has evidently begun scaring them already, since they have stopped committing illegal crimes publically… They killed our best Dragon, yes, but we have plenty more."
Harry still felt very nervous at the prospect of fighting Grindelwald's people in a war. He was tense at the idea of some of the Death Eaters dying before they were supposed to, and in full honesty he didn't feel at all prepared for a series of fights… Harry also didn't know how he felt about Grindelwald's people. They had captured him, tortured him, and almost murdered him… so surely it was normal that Harry quite liked the idea of them being killed at the hands of Tom and the Death Eaters?
"How are we going to win against Grindelwald's people?" Harry asked, unable to hold back the question any longer. "Our friends aren't strong enough to fight in combat, and neither am I at the moment."
"We shan't fight them soon," Tom soothed softly. "I believe it will be about six months before we attack any of them, unless they search for us first. In that time, I will teach our friends how to fight more powerfully. You will be healed within a month, and I will also teach you how to fight better – even if I know you have plenty of skills already."
"Do you think we'll find some Giants by then?"
"I would certainly like that," Tom admitted, "yet Giants would be dangerously untamed after only six months of being with us. As useful as they would be, it would be wiser for us to wait at least a year before capturing any of them. By then, we will be very well known for what we do and there will be more people to help us manage important things such as Giants."
"We're still likely to lose against Grindelwald's people," Harry said, "with only about twenty of our friends fighting however many of them… I really don't see how we'll win."
Harry saw a mischievous smile form upon Tom's lips. Tom's voice was light when he spoke. "Well, I wouldn't say that we have to defeat all of the followers fairly…"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that with six months before the others can fight in battle, I don't see why we should wait around idly, doing nothing to help ourselves win against Grindelwald's people."
Harry took a moment to try and work out what Tom was thinking. "So… you think that we should do something about Grindelwald's people before there are any battles?"
"That's exactly what I think," Tom confirmed, sounding pleased. "We'll track down small groups of followers the best we can, to break up Grindelwald's following as a whole. Our friends can help with that, even if they aren't strong enough for real combat. It will teach them about what it is to harm another wizard, to extract information out of them, to blackmail them, and occasionally to kill them."
"Do you think they'll be strong enough to do this?"
"I know they will be," Tom said confidently. "I'll force them to do what I want, at any cost. They are all too addicted to the Dark Arts to resist for long, and anyone who does resist will be a mere exception who will be a friend of mine no more."
Harry didn't know what to think of this. He knew that torturing and interrogating people wasn't a job that Tom expected him to do, but he wondered how Tom would react if he, Harry, couldn't bring himself to kill anyone for Horcruxes one day. Harry guessed that he wouldn't get the same punishments as a Death Eater for being unable to murder, but he knew it would probably annoy Tom a great deal. If only to comfort himself, Harry refused to believe that Tom would throw him out for being too weak.
"We should begin reading now, I believe," Tom's voice interrupted. "I have quite a few books that I must introduce you to before we begin, yet it shouldn't take too long for you to understand how all of this works…"
–X–
It was close to midnight, two days since Harry had returned from Grindelwald's fortress, when Harry found himself sitting near the end of the long dining room table within Tom's home. A meeting was being held, which currently brought together twenty or so of the Death Eaters, all of whom remained quiet and as attentive as they could be while they focused upon Tom speaking.
Tom was discussing the changes that were going to take place now that Grindelwald's people were trying to find and hurt them. Tom was describing the danger and work involved in properly training all of the Death Eaters for a fight. He expressed how he would be teaching them more magic to help them in the next six months, whilst setting them different jobs and tasks at different times to try and help get an advantage over Grindelwald's followers.
Many of the Death Eaters were nervous upon hearing all of this, but most of them were also animated at the prospect of having the most famous and powerful Dark Wizards in history as their personal enemies. Harry knew that if they actually managed to pull this off, the Death Eaters were all going to have an even stronger sense of newfound importance. They could sense even now that they were making history, and they loved it.
"So, we're gonna go after all these wizards one by one?" Avery asked, apparently wanting to make everything completely clear. "Why do we need to train for battle, then?"
"We won't be able to find each and every one of our enemies," Tom explained calmly. "Even if we track groups at a time. By the time we stop around fifty to a hundred wizards from continuing with Grindelwald's group, the other followers will understand what we are doing, and will begin to hide and attack us secretly too."
"How are we going to fight the remaining people?" Gonson asked, his eyes skeptical behind his limp black hair, which shadowed most of his face. "We'll still be fighting more than two to one – maybe more."
"I believe that many of Grindelwald's followers will run away once they see how powerful we are with Dragons, and so on," Tom reassured Gonson carelessly. "That could give us as many as another fifty to a hundred less wizards to deal with, even after the followers that will leave due to fear of being hunted down. We won't have many more wizards to fight in a battle. As many as thirty wizards might survive a final fight, but only by – yet again – fleeing the scene."
"Do you really expect us to defeat Gellert Grindelwald's followers, though?" Dolohov asked thickly from across the table, his large face twisted into a confused yet not completely cynical expression.
"Do you think I would try if I didn't expect so?" Tom asked in response. "We would merely hide and waste a few years here if I wasn't confident that we have enough power to do this. We will destroy all their bases and following until the remaining wizards simply give up."
"But, I mean," Dolohov continued, "if they managed to get to Jonathan…"
As Dolohov trailed off, many pairs of eyes found their way to Harry curiously. In these last three days, since Harry had returned, no one had dared asked how Harry got captured in the first place. Being quite annoyed at the idea of even the Death Eaters thinking of him as weak, Harry decided to speak before anyone else could.
"I was only captured because I had no clue that Grindelwald's people were still looking for me here," Harry said truthfully as the Death Eaters paid close attention. "None of us knew that Quentin was a part of that group, and I wasn't at all prepared for it when he brought Grindelwald's followers here at four in the morning."
A few of the Death Eaters murmured to each other about this, agreeing that it must have been a surprise. Harry noticed that Mulciber, who sat in front of him, had gone tense at the mention of 'Quentin', but very few of the others noticed this. Mulciber had become very quiet and distanced lately. He barely ever joked with the others anymore.
"Plus, you managed to fight off at least some of them, from the look of it," Avery added. "Loads of spell damage was left in the dining room the day after they took you away."
"But we ain't gonna last half as long as him if we get captured by Grindelwald's followers," Dolohov reasoned.
"Grindelwald's followers wouldn't waste time capturing any of you," Tom assured Dolohov darkly. "None of you have the information they want, and I'm sure that the last thing on their minds now is to steal someone else for me to rescue."
"You don't mean to say that they're going to try and kill us?" Lestrange enquired, visibly concerned.
Tom laughed humourlessly. "They think of all of us as nothing more than bothersome obstacles stopping them from reaching Jonathan again. They will kill you all without hesitation if you get in the way… If you surrender, they will also kill you. Perhaps after some short torture to be sure you aren't useful. To capture you would be too kind, and too risky."
All of the Death Eaters appeared nervous about this. They stared at Tom with wide eyes, none of them saying a word. Tom seemed to decide that they needed some reassurance after his very purposeful warning, especially since they were already uneasy about the number of followers they had to kill and pry from Grindelwald's group.
"If you succeed in defeating Grindelwald's people with me, we will become the most famous and powerful Dark Arts group the world will ever know," Tom described to his friends in complete confidence. "The wizarding world will look up to us in awe and admiration for having succeeded in what has been dreamt about throughout all of history, and deemed impossible since Grindelwald's recent downfall. We will make the world a place where wizards can walk free, where magic is preserved and respected… where we shall be lords."
Many of the Death Eaters smiled at Tom's words, or else looked at him in esteeming surprise. These signs of approval encouraged Tom to continue without interruption.
"We shall prevail with our knowledge in the Dark Arts," Tom promised, "and we shall go further than any witch or wizard has ever gone before in understanding the ancient secrets of our ancestors, which have been encrypted for us to uncover only now. By defeating Gellert Grindelwald's following – the pathetic excuses for Dark Arts Masters – we shall clear away much of what is stopping us from succeeding this very minute. We shall clear away all of that useless vermin, which the rest of the world so needlessly fears. We eliminate that vermin entirely, since they can neither understand nor fulfil the great messages that have been passed down throughout history – to encourage rightful wizard supremacy!"
Before Harry knew it, the Death Eaters had gone from nervous at the idea of being killed to completely enthralled and eager at the task of defeating Grindelwald's people. Harry didn't know how it happened, but the atmosphere of the entire room had changed. The Death Eaters spoke amongst themselves, agreeing with Tom's words and voicing their approval at the hope of becoming a great part of history.
"As long as I am here, I shall try everything in my power to keep any of you from dying at the wands of Grindelwald's people," Tom vowed. "Yet any life lost would be a life dedicated to a great cause and remembered throughout history – I assure you this… Bear in mind, however, that if you are a coward like Quentin, I shall have no choice but to do the same thing to you that I did to him."
A few of the Death Eaters laughed somewhat nervously at this, but they appeared generally too enthusiastic at the aim of defeating Grindelwald's people to give this lighthearted warning a second thought. Harry neither said a word nor reacted very much as the Death Eaters continued being vibrant and talkative.
"What happens if they search for us here, though?" Avery wondered aloud, directing his words towards Tom. "Before we start getting rid of some of them, I mean."
"I won't completely dismiss the idea of them searching for us here," Tom began, "however, I think it is unlikely that they will attempt to break into my land. They know that we have Dragons and a whole number of wizards all in one group, so that should intimidate them quite a bit. I doubt they really understand who we are, and because of this I believe they will treat us with great caution."
"Until they meet us and kill us, of course," Lestrange added cheerlessly.
"Which they won't do any time soon," Tom reminded them all. "You shall all be trained a great deal more by the time you meet Grindelwald's people, and you shan't have a chance to get killed."
"What happens if they try to do the same thing we're doing, with chasing after individuals?" Gonson enquired. "Some of us are obviously going to have to leave Albania every now and then. We'd be in danger back in England, for example."
"From this day onward none of you shall travel on your own," Tom explained. "Any time you feel the need to visit England, or even the towns and villages around here, you shall have to take someone else with you to ensure full safety. With two or more people in a group, I'm sure you can manage to fight if need be. No one will… No one would attack you on your own…"
Tom had trailed off. The Death Eaters didn't notice, for they were discussing this piece of news, pointing out the pros and cons as they dwelt upon where they might visit within the next six months or so. Harry wasn't interested in any of the Death Eaters' conversations, however. Tom seemed to be thinking about something that bothered him quite a bit, because he was staring down at the table with a carefully contemplative expression.
Then Tom looked at Harry. No Death Eater noticed it as their eyes met. Harry tried to work out what Tom was thinking while he stared with a mix of confusion and annoyance. The annoyance is what scared Harry the most, even if he had seen Tom far angrier than this in the past. It appeared that Tom was so bothered by the thoughts in his head that he felt the meeting with the Death Eaters was irrelevant now, and could be dealt with later. Tom turned his glaring eyes away from Harry to address his friends.
"You can all leave now," he snapped moodily, as though the Death Eaters should have known this already. His friends appeared only slightly confused at his sudden change in emotion. Harry knew that they were too used to him to question why he was inexplicably irritated.
"But there are still loads of questions we want to ask," Dolohov informed Tom, still sitting down. "It's only just turned midnight."
"There's plenty of time to discuss this later," Tom said impatiently, standing up.
"But–"
"Do I have to throw you out of my house? Get out!"
Dolohov didn't object past this. He got up from where he sat, some of the other Death Eaters urging him out faster in fear that he would argue against Tom's order. Harry got up from his seat too, watching Tom pace the room somewhat. When most of their friends were gone, Tom turned to face Harry. He was unable to withhold a glare when their eyes met, and in full honesty Harry was fearful of this.
He didn't know what he could have done to annoy Tom, and he worried that Tom had simply lost it without reason. Harry knew he shouldn't think like this, and he knew that it was bad that he would even consider Tom going crazy so simply, but the way Tom was looking at him was very ominous. Harry couldn't help but panic a little, waiting for Tom to speak.
"Why did he only attack me?" Tom demanded. His words caught the remaining Death Eaters' attention. Their will to leave the house as soon as possible was stalled by curiosity.
Harry was a little confused by Tom's words. "Why did who only attack you?"
"Who do you think?" Tom almost shouted. "Emeric!"
Harry's stared, his heard in his mouth. The remaining Death Eaters listened eagerly while Harry struggled to get over his fear of how Tom might react to his words. "I – It was – I didn't think –"
"Get out!" Tom suddenly roared to his friends, who seemed close to asking who Emeric was.
The Death Eaters followed his order without saying a word, quickly heading for the exit of the house. When the front door closed a few moments later, Tom seemed to be waiting to be sure that his friends were completely gone. He was close to pacing the room as he glared at Harry, angrier than he had ever been with Harry before.
"As with most situations," Tom began through gritted teeth, causing Harry's heart to pulse sickeningly, "there are only two reasons to explain why Emeric chose to attack me, and only me."
Harry's wide eyes barely moved while he stared at Tom. He was unable to think properly while the question of what Tom would do next ran through his mind. There was something in Tom's dark grey eyes that was inhuman and unfeeling, and it terrified Harry.
"Reason one," Tom continued quietly, rage audible in his every word, "Emeric felt I was a greater threat than you, knowing you were weakened by torture. If this is truth, I am yet to understand why he would not think to hurt us both, or leave us altogether in an attempt to save himself. I am also yet to understand why he would try to kill me at all, knowing you still had a wand and knowing I was strong enough to trick the other followers. However, reason two lacks these unanswerable features…"
Harry didn't say a word, for he dreaded to hear what reason two might be. Tom was taking slow, steady steps towards him, to view his face more clearly. Harry's heart was hammering, and he didn't know what he should do.
"Reason two," Tom almost hissed, glaring down at Harry from less than a meter away, his dark eyes slits, "Emeric still has feelings for you, and he was so confident in the idea that you would stay with him, he decided to try and overthrow me – and don't deny it! The fact that he attacked me proves this, and the fact that I've never seen you look so guilty before proves your knowledge of his desire."
Harry was suddenly aware of just how tall Tom appeared while he stood besides him, glowering. At six foot one inch, Tom was already two inches taller than Harry, but while Tom stared at him so exasperatedly Harry felt several feet shorter. He dreaded to reflect that Tom's jealousy would be far worse than it was last time. Harry had actually been affected in his weakness, and there was no Emeric around for Tom to kill, hurt, or harm in any way now.
"Do you deny it?" Tom enquired sharply.
Harry didn't know what to respond to this, or how to explain the situation to Tom without making him even more annoyed. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of every explanation. Harry tried to reminded himself that this was Tom, and he shouldn't be fearful no matter how enraged he appeared…
After a moment, Harry decided to tell the truth. He couldn't bring himself to lie to Tom about this and he knew Tom would know he was lying anyway. Harry felt sorrow pulse through him and mix with his fear as he gazed up at Tom, trying to accept what had happened. He took a deep breath, attempting to steady himself…
"I don't deny it," he confessed.
Tom's eyes widened, and he stared without doing anything else. His anger was temporarily gone as pure shock washed over him. He seemed to dislike hearing this confirmation from Harry, but the latter was sure that he disliked it quite a bit more as he watched Tom fight with accepting this.
Before Harry knew it, Tom turned away from him. A few meters away, Tom ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself. His hands curled into fists and uncurled again repetitively once down by his sides, until he met Harry's eyes once more. His anger was different this time.
"What did he do to you?" Tom demanded. He appeared to be struggling in some way, but Harry couldn't quite place how.
"I – he," Harry stammered, trying to word it in the best way possible. He took another deep breath. "We only kissed."
Tom seemed stained as he attempted to keep his emotions in check. "I cannot believe you could do such a unfaithful – such a treacherous thing!" he declared, unable to keep his ireful voice calm or quiet. "I cannot believe you would betray me in such a way!"
"I didn't think you were going to save me!" Harry exclaimed. "I was trapped in that hellhole for nine solid days! He – he offered me a way out of there! What else was I supposed to do?"
"You were supposed to have more faith in me!" Tom answered.
"I was dying!" Harry shouted, unable to stop his voice from shaking. "I was dying and starving and alone! How can you blame me for losing faith in you? I could have been there for months for all I knew!"
"It's irrelevant what was happening!" Tom expressed. "I can't believe you would kiss him!"
"And I can't believe the hypocrisy!" Harry responded, suddenly remembering what Emeric had told him in a spiteful attempt to cause more pain. Harry's voice was straining. "He – he told me that you kissed him, on the day you made him leave his job in England."
Tom turned to face Harry, bewildered as he heard this. Harry didn't know whether the shock was in fear or actual surprise, but he was sure that it had actually happened when he saw Tom's expression. There was a short pause, where Harry felt desolation pour through him. His heart was aching.
"It was meaningless," Tom said quietly. The house was suddenly very still, and Harry could almost feel the silence pressing upon them. "I only did it because I was curious to know whether other wizards felt like you. I wanted to make sure that you wouldn't leave me for someone else, for whatever reason."
"And you thought kissing someone else would stop me from ever leaving you?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"I thought kissing someone else would help me understand why I love you so much!" Tom retorted indignantly.
"Oh, very sly," Harry remarked, ignoring how his heart fluttered at Tom's words, "push away all my doubts by telling me exactly what I want to hear!"
"I'm pushing away my own doubts by telling you what I feel!" Tom exclaimed.
Harry ignored the slight guilt that filled him at Tom's words. He didn't know what to feel in response to all of this. Anger and sorrow coursed through him, and he was unsure which emotion he should act upon.
"How can you expect me to believe that you only kissed Emeric to make sure I wouldn't leave you for someone else?" Harry demanded. "That doesn't even make sense!"
"I'd never kissed another boy before you," Tom explained, audibly trying to keep his voice calm, "I had to be sure that you were different than other wizards and – and he was just there!"
"And?" Harry asked.
"And what?"
"Was it any different?" Harry questioned. "How was it?"
Tom looked outraged. "Dull and insipid!" he described, as though it should have been obvious.
"What about the others?" Harry asked shrilly. "I'm sure you had tens of wizards waltzing to your bedroom while I was gone."
If Tom wasn't outraged before, he certainly was now. "How can you suggest such a thing?" he ordered. "How can you not understand how hard I searched for you? How much time I dedicated to finding you?"
"I can't know what you did with all that wasted time!" Harry remarked.
"Our friends wasted that time!" Tom reminded him furiously. "I didn't rest for a minute in your absence – of course I had no time for such treachery!"
Harry felt bad throwing these accusations at Tom, but the possibility of Tom cheating on him scared and worried him no matter how doubtable it was. Tom's chest was rising and falling in anger, and Harry found himself becoming more frustrated too at the idea of this entire conversation.
"You had no reason to kiss him," Tom claimed coldly. "You could only have done it from not caring about me, or not wanting to lose the chance to be with him."
"I don't want to be with Emeric!" Harry responded. "If I wanted to be with him, I wouldn't have gone with you – I wouldn't have had his own wand pointed to his throat! Didn't you see I was willing to kill him when you found us?"
"But you had days to be with him before that," Tom stated. He winced a little upon saying this, but Harry wasn't sure whether that was in anger or not.
"He only kissed me about ten minutes before you rescued me," Harry explained, still annoyed. "I didn't plan for the kiss at all, it just – just happened when he started promising me freedom. He told me the other followers were going to kill me – he told me that I only had one night to live… but now I think about it, he was probably lying to scare me into trusting him…"
Harry's voice had become calmer while he reflected upon Emeric's possible lies. This was not the result of Harry caring about Emeric, of course. It was merely the result of Harry reflecting upon the mistake he had made in trusting Emeric. Tom seemed to slowly understand where Harry was coming from, and neither of them spoke for a time.
Harry didn't know what was worse, him kissing Emeric out of delusional hope, or Tom kissing Emeric out of meaningless curiosity. Was it more or less reassuring to know that one's partner did something immoral out of wonder, rather than real attachment? Harry felt that maybe it was equal, because the intentions behind such an action are rendered meaningless when the emotional affect starts to kick in.
Harry could see Tom's anger visibly fading. Harry felt bad about accusing Tom of sleeping with other people when he was gone, and he felt bad about saying Tom had wasted time in his absence. Harry knew none of this was true, and he didn't know how to explain that now. He only knew one thing…
"I don't want to fight anymore," he voiced quietly, watching Tom's dark eyes meet his own as he spoke. "I don't want to let something as meaningless as this tear us apart and I – I don't want to leave you, especially knowing Emeric did this to us. We both made mistakes… it would be stupid if this ruined what we have."
Tom's absence of annoyance was what prompted Harry most to express this, and he was relieved when Tom appeared even less irked at his words. Tom seemed tempted to say something else, to let Harry understand further why this hurt him, but he resisted the urge. His eyes were focused and concerned. He nodded lightly before saying, "It would be a petty thing to ruin such a strong connection."
Harry nodded back in response. They gazed at each other for a long while, wishing to do something more, but knowing there was a little more to discuss.
"What turned you against Emeric, after you kissed?" Tom enquired.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Harry answered honestly. "Even before the kiss, I couldn't get you out of my mind. Emeric also used the Cruciatus Curse on me when we first spoke there, and I couldn't forget it. I knew he would kill me if I ran away with him. I don't know what's wrong with him, but he's far from sane."
"What makes you say that?" Tom asked seriously.
"Well," Harry began; feeling reassured with Tom's worry, "he went from caring about me to wanting to slit my throat when I told him you were the only person I could ever love. It wasn't like I said anything offensive to him, either. I think Grindelwald's people have probably just fucked with his head, or something."
"Yes, I would agree with that assumption," Tom said. "Grindelwald's people would have harmed Emeric more than Quentin, per se, because I know the former is doubtlessly weaker than the latter was… I'm sorry that both of the mentioned wizards were able to harm you, in the end."
"Don't be sorry," Harry said. "It was my fault, if anything."
"No," Tom disagreed. "You cannot be blamed."
They gazed at each other further, and Tom began taking slow, steady steps across the room. It was as though he had been resisting this urge for the past few minutes, as Tom, with a swish of his wand, made the curtains seal all sight of them from the outside. Tom stood in front of Harry, reaching up a hand to touch his face. Harry closed his eyes for a moment when he felt Tom's touch. When he opened them again, Tom's face was inches away from his own.
"I would never sleep with another witch or wizard besides you," Tom promised him in a whisper. "There is no one I could like more than you. No one I could desire more."
"I know," Harry assured Tom softly. "I only suggested it because I was upset. I know we will never need anyone but each other…"
Tom's fingers moved gently against Harry's ear and jaw. Tom smiled softly, either at Harry's strong reaction to his touch or the thought that suddenly struck his mind, Harry wasn't sure. "It's hard to seriously imagine being with anyone but you," Tom said. "All I can think about is a comical scene where Dolohov is attempting to replace you."
A smile broke across Harry's face, and he laughed. Dolohov was a mountain of unattractive plumpness and muscles, and the mental image of him and Tom being together wasn't one Harry could take seriously either. "I suppose none of your friends are interested in other Wizards, anyway," Harry said, reassuring himself mostly. He then added, "but I wouldn't out it past you to trick some of the others, if you wanted them enough."
"I don't want anyone but you," Tom stated. He smiled slightly at his own words, and gazed at Harry longingly. "I've never wanted anyone as much as I still want you."
"I feel the same for you," Harry said softly.
They studied each other for a long moment, before Tom leant forwards slowly. He kissed Harry, their lips pressing together gently. Tom lingered millimetres away after this, his breath brushing against Harry's skin. Unable to endure this short break of longing, Harry kissed Tom more passionately. Tom's fingers slid slowly through Harry's hair, gripping on heatedly when their breath began to quicken.
Tom licked Harry's lips, his tongue forcing its way into Harry's mouth. Harry's hands had found their way to Tom's back, clawing at it fervently as their kiss deepened. Tom began pushing Harry backwards blindly, intent upon having their bodies closer as he pushed Harry against the wall. Their lips moved rhythmically, their breath rough as Tom tilted his head to find new angles at which to kiss Harry. Harry moaned softly into Tom's mouth, causing Tom to press him back harder.
Harry was bewildered with how much he wanted Tom. With all the risk of losing him to their fight tonight, Harry's whole body ached to have him yet closer. He began biting Tom's lips, encouraging Tom to move further in their kiss. When Tom's lips began to descend, Harry stretched his neck up, wanting to feel Tom's lips all over his skin. Tom kissed his neck over and over again, before moving to brush his lips behind Harry's ear. Once there, Tom's stopped kissing Harry to pull him into an embrace, but still Harry was satisfied with this.
They held each other close, Tom's hands on the back of Harry's head as they slowly moved away from the wall, to hug better. Tom kissed Harry's ear every now and then, but in general they merely stood, feeling each other's body close and enjoying the knowledge that the other was there.
"What are the chances of us knowing two wizards involved with Grindelwald's people?" Harry mumbled into Tom's shoulder, his hands on Tom's waist now.
"I assume that it was Emeric and Quentin's similarity of age that brought on the apparent coincidence," Tom responded softly, panting slightly. "I believe Grindelwald's people are drawn to hiring younger wizards. The younger people are, the more gullible and able to learn they will be."
"It's going to be insane, trying to take on all of Grindelwald's people," Harry remarked.
Tom did not respond immediately. When he spoke, Harry knew Tom was avoiding his remark, but he didn't actually mind. "I would do anything to keep you safe," Tom said, kissing him again.
"I know," Harry mentioned. "I would do the same."
They stood for a minute more, enjoying their embrace as they thought.
"I'm going to kill Emeric," Tom whispered. His words were neither a threat nor a way of settling his own nonexistent anger at this time. It was fact.
"Not if I do first," Harry challenged. "And if you kiss someone else, it won't only be them who I hurt."
Tom gave a hum of laughter.
"I'm not lying," Harry warned.
"I know," Tom smiled, "and the sincerity of your words is what amuses me most of all."
