Chapter 7

Celebrations

Harry slept for three days after the First Task. He collapsed the second Tom left him at the infirmary tent and was transferred to the Hospital Wing immediately. Whispers and rumors spread about Harry's condition, the teachers failing to quell them. Some said that Harry died, others said that he used so much magic he's now a Squib while a few whispered that Slytherin poisoned him. Tom did not like the last one especially, but he stayed his hand. He needed to be by Harry whenever he could, he had to be there to take care of his boy. He never wanted to leave his boy, but Madam Pomfrey shooed him away to go to class. Not that it mattered for Tom always returned the second they were over.

When Harry woke, the first thing he saw was Tom. He felt weak, severely drained. As though a large heavyweight was sitting on top of him, squeezing every ounce of energy he had out like a toothpaste tube. Still, when he saw the blurry image of Tom, he smiled. "Morning," he said, his voice sounding hoarse.

"Afternoon," Tom corrected. "It is November 27th, three-thirty in the afternoon."

"Oh," Harry blushed. He frowned, "The last thing I remember, I just closed my eyes for a second when you left me in the tent."

"And you promptly fell asleep," Tom chuckled. "I have to say, darling, that was an awfully long catnap you took."

"I didn't mean to—"

"I'm sorry," Tom said quickly, cutting Harry off. He placed a hand on his chest and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Madam Pomfrey told me, quite directly, to not agitate you when you wake up."

"That is quite right, and you were to come to me the second Mr. Potter wakes up!" came the busy voice of Madam Pomfrey as she quickly shuffled towards them. Tom reluctantly pulled his hand away from Harry but did not move out of the way for Madam Pomfrey. "You've given us all quite a scare, Mr. Potter," she said, "not to mention the lunacy to even use dragons in this tournament! Now, if you could sit up? Take it slow—you've used quite a bit of magic."

Harry nodded and grunted as he forced himself to sit up against the bedframe. The pressure on him pushed back, rolling from his chest to settling on his stomach. Madam Pomfrey waved her wand around Harry, poking and prodding him with it before using her hands to examine him, focusing on his stomach and chest. She gave a worrisome hum and frowned. "What's wrong?" Tom asked immediately.

"He's used too much magic," Madam Pomfrey said. "Nothing to be worried about. Harry here just needs to recuperate. Allow his core to build back up over time, that said Mr. Potter, that means no magic of any kind for at least a week."

"A week!"

"Yes, and be happy I am just giving you that, and plenty of rest of course," Madam Pomfrey said, "the more you rest, the faster your magical core can replenish itself. Harry frowned.

"But—"

"No excuses Mr. Potter, I have already told your professors and Headmaster Dumbledore about this," Madam Pomfrey said. "Under no circumstances do I want to see you even touch your wand for the next week! After which, I will give you a check-up to see how smoothly your recovery is. I honestly do not see what you were thinking! Summoning those vines like that, were they even vines? Why they moved like snakes!"

Harry blushed and glanced at Tom. The Slytherin's eyes shone with pride however he kept a straight face. "Do not worry, I will personally make sure that Harry does not use magic."

"Very well, however, I will still keep an eye on you, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said.

"Is there anything else wrong?" Harry asked, clearing his throat. Tom immediately stood up and walked around to the side table to pour a drink of water. He gave it to Harry silently.

"Nothing else I could find is wrong," Madam Pomfrey said, "besides the small scrapes you've sustained from the fight, the bigger issue was the depletion of your magic."

"Okay," Harry nodded after he took a long, slow sip. He frowned for a moment, "Does that mean I'm free to go?"

"Yes, however once again—under no circumstances will you use magic!" Madam Pomfrey stressed.

Tom and Harry agreed and reassured her that Harry won't use any magic and as soon as they left the hospital wing, Harry pouted, too tired to even try to put on his masks. "No magic! Tom, can you believe it?"

"I do, Darling. Speak of, let me see your wand?" Tom said, holding a hand out casually.

"Yeah sure," Harry nodded, and he pulled out his wand, handing it to Tom. Tom's grip instantly tightened, and he pocketed it. "Hey!"

"You'll get your wand back next week, darling, don't pout," Tom chuckled, kissing Harry's cheek. "If for whatever reason you need a spell done, you'll just ask me." He smirked at Harry's irritation.

"Bastard," Harry muttered.

"You wound me, darling," Tom chuckled. "But come on, I'm sure the Gryffindors will be ecstatic to see that you're awake."

Harry just hummed and looked around. "Um, can we take our time… going there?"

"Of course my darling," Tom smiled. Their hands touched and fingers interlocked as they took a slow walk around the castle, Harry using the time to get the sleepiness away and his masks in order.

They walked around for an hour before Harry felt ready to return to Gryffindor Tower. He surprised Tom by pulling him all the way up to the seventh floor where the portrait of the Fat Lady waited. He said the password clearly so that Tom could hear, and the Fat Lady just stared at Harry for a moment. He said it again, and the portrait swung open. "Come on, please," Harry muttered.

Tom smiled and kissed Harry's cheek. "I'll follow you inside, but I can't stay, darling. I have to tell your other friends you're alright."

Harry's cheeks blushed and he nodded. He took a step and his fingers left Tom's. He hated that he had to do this, it hurt him, and he must know that it devastated Tom. He just looked back at his … boyfriend? Special friend? His Tom. Yes, his Tom and tried to offer a smile as one by one he felt his Gryffindor masks slip-on. They expected him to be strong, to be cocky and grinning after his win, and so he'll play those parts. It was easier before, but now he found it a bit difficult. He just wanted to sleep, to just sit with both Ron and Hermione and talk nervously about his upcoming date with Tom and his feelings.

But instead, the Gryffindors insisted on having a party.

Ron and Hermione both had the golden egg that caused him to go into a long sleep for three days. Apparently, according to them, Mr. Bagman has told them why the egg was important after it became obvious that Harry wouldn't wake up. "It's a clue you see," Ron told him "You see this part here?" he pointed to the top of the egg where there were hinges, "Apparently you just open it up and figure out the clue in it! It'll tell you what the second task is and what you have to do."

"As long as it isn't dragons, I'm fine with anything," Harry muttered. "When is the second task?"

"February twenty-fourth," Hermione answered.

"Loads of them then," Harry said, giving them a half-smile. Hermione did not look happy at that.

"Don't you think it would be better if you solve it as soon as possible?" she asked.

"It's not even December, Hermione! Harry's got all the time in the world!" Ron argued, and the rest of the Gryffindor common room seemed to agree for in the next moment, it was filled with mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface. Lee Jordan had let off some Filibuster's Fireworks so that the air was thick with stars and sparks; and Dean Thomas, who was very good at drawing, had put up some impressive new banners, most of which depicted Harry fending off the Horntail with the giant vines he summoned, though a couple showed Cedric with his head on fire.

Harry helped himself to some food, realizing just how hungry he was. He had a feeling that if Tom would see him, he would have some choice words about Harry stuffing himself on cake, but he didn't care. The others expected him to celebrate with them, and besides the cake was good. He left the egg on a table, and Lee Jordan picked it up. "Open it, Harry! Let's see what's inside it!"

"He's supposed to work out the clue on his own," Hermione said swiftly. "It's in the tournament rules. …"

"I was also supposed to figure out the dragon by myself too," Harry muttered, so only Hermione could hear him, and she grinned rather guiltily.

"Go on Harry, open it!" several others echoed, urging Harry on. He wanted to frown and say no, but Lee already passed Harry the egg. So, he dug his fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it and opened it.

It was hollow and completely empty—but the moment Harry opened it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, filled the room.

"Shut it!" Fred bellowed his hands over his ears.

"What was that?" Seamus Finnigan said, staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again. "Sounded like a banshee!"

"Or someone being tortured!" Neville suggested.

Harry's stomach fell at the thought of either. He stared at the egg and knew that there was no way he was going to open it any time soon. The Gryffindors' party kept on till almost one in the morning when Harry was finally able to go to sleep. Feeling exhausted all around, Harry collapsed into his bed and the last thought he had was that it wouldn't be too terrible if he slept for another three days.

Tom brought Harry for his date on the first of December, which was a Saturday. It was a rather chilly December first, and both boys were bundled up to protect themselves against the wind. They were huddled close together, gloved hands almost holding. "Hold my hand Harry, it is fine," Tom hissed in parseltongue, and Harry's hand found its way to Tom's. They both smiled at that as they went down the main street of Diagon Alley.

"I wrote to Sirius as soon as I could," Harry said, "Telling him everything—especially about you stealing my wand!"

"It is not stealing, my darling, merely holding until you are well enough to use magic again," Tom chuckled. "You've survived two days of classes and now it is the weekend."

"Yeah but it's my wand," Harry muttered. "I promise I won't use magic!"

"No Harry, I'm holding your wand until Madam Pomfrey says you're good, and that's final," Tom said. "Come here," he pulled Harry off the main road towards the outlook that overlooked the Shrieking Shack. Tom stared at it, frowning. "What is that house?" he asked.

"Oh right—you wouldn't know," Harry smiled, the issue of his wand instantly forgotten (for now). "That is the Shrieking Shack! It was made when my dad went here. It was made for my dad's friend, he has a uh… furry little problem like how my dad puts it."

"This friend would be Remus Lupin I am guessing," Tom said.

Harry gasped, "How did you know?"

"On my first day here, Blaise and Theo kept singing high praises about you, darling," Tom smirked, "if I didn't know better, I would have been jealous. They told me everything you told Draco about your adventure last year."

"Oh," Harry said, blushing a little.

"But that is not why I brought you here, I wanted to be alone so I could give you my gift properly," Tom said, his hand going into his pocket. "I did not spend much money on it, I will admit. The Slytherin girls showed me a magazine where you can order jewelry from. It's simple but pretty, and I do hope you like it." He pulled out a necklace. It was a simple necklace with a tight chain and an elegant pendant. "If I may?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry nodded. He took off his scarf and opened his heavy cloak enough so that Tom had clear access to his neck. He embraces Harry's neck, his fingers gliding smoothly against the delicate skin of his boy. He pulled the necklace across. It rested against Harry's neck, the pendant resting on his collarbones. It was comfortable, and Harry couldn't help but smile as he felt the cold silver against his flushed body. Tom dressed him back, taking care to wrap the scarf and he held Harry's hands as they faced each other once more.

"With this, I want the world to see that you are mine," Tom said. "That you belong to me. I want you to wear this with all of your masks, my Harry. Can you do that?"

"Yes," Harry breathed immediately, and he was pulled against Tom's body, and their lips mashed together. His first kiss, his first proper kiss, and Harry immediately knew what the older students were talking about whenever they describing kissing. It felt magical, funnily enough, like sparks were going off in his body as and Tom embraced. Their lips pressed together, neither boy deepening it but it was enough for now. It was enough for them. They separated and Harry smiled.

"I guess this means we're boyfriends," he said.

"Of course darling," Tom purred.

"Then can I kiss my boyfriend again?"

"Please."

They eventually made their way to the three broomsticks where there was even more kissing in their discreet booth in the corner. By the time they returned to Hogwarts almost two hours later, Harry's lips felt bruised and slightly chapped from all the kissing he and Tom did, but the feeling only made his heart soar.

"So, did I do enough kisses to get my wand back?" he asked.

Tom chuckled, "Ask me tomorrow, darling," he purred and kissed Harry once more.

"What's tomorrow?"

"More Parsel-magic training of course," Tom said. "You may not have your wand, but you can still learn, my darling. So rest up."

His lessons, surprisingly enough, involving kisses whenever Harry answered correctly or did what he was told. Harry liked that. He wished he got Tom kisses whenever he got the correct answer in his other classes. They kept to theory, since Tom still refused to give Harry his wand back until Madam Pomfrey said so, and together they've worked out on what exactly Harry did during the first task.

"Do you remember exactly what it is you said, my Darling?" Tom asked.

Harry gave a thoughtful expression, his hand going to his necklace, plain as day, to think. It made Tom smile. "I think it was, 'Slither out and bind my enemies to the ground,'' Harry said, looking up at Tom. "I don't know where I got the words from, it was like I was just moving on my own, on instinct."

"Instinct? Huh?" Tom hummed. He brought out Slytherin's journal and flipped through it. "Strange. Ah! Here it is, one of Slytherin's descendants have written about being able to control the ground with Parseltongue, just as you can conjure a snake from fire. However, from what he describes it, it was never to the extent you've done; he's only pulled small vines out to wrap around ankles and necks, never enough to cage a dragon!"

Harry frowned at that, "What does that mean?" He asked.

"It means that you are brilliant, powerful, and definitely do not know your limits," Tom chuckled. Harry's cheeks blushed slightly. "However, I think it might be good to start training in the second type of Parsel-Magic."

"That means I get my wand back, right?" Harry grinned.

"No, no you still have one more day left," Tom chuckled, kissing Harry's pouting lips. "It'll be done before you know it, Harry. Even then, I still won't let you use the second form of Parsel-Magic."

"Why not?" Harry demanded.

"I do not want you to exhaust yourself again," Tom said. "This is an advanced form of magic—powerful and dangerous. If you try to do it again, especially now, well I fear that sleeping for three days would be the least of your concerns. This is Dark Magic Harry, don't forget that."

"Dark Magic," Harry breathed. "I've done dark magic in front of everyone." His heart fell at the revelation. "Did they recognize it? Could they have?"

"Relax, they could not. If they did, you and I would not be speaking," Tom said soothingly. "But this is why we must practice. Practice and know exactly what it is we are doing with Parsel-Magic. The more we both understand this mysterious and ancient magic, the better we can control it."

"Okay," Harry nodded. "So, with the spell I've used, it is supposed to control vines right? Makes sense, I mean I did tell them to slither out and hold the dragon to the ground."

"You did; however you did not specify the vines," Tom said. "So perhaps the ground or the area we were around influenced what came out."

"You're saying if I did it elsewhere, the vines wouldn't come out?" Harry asked.

"It's a good theory," Tom muttered. "We can try that out on a later date."

Harry smiled at that before looking at his watch, "Oh! I have to go, Ron and I promised we would study with Hermione."

He kissed Tom and took a breath, smiling at his boyfriend. Tom, however, could see the masks that protected his boy being slipped on. Each one looking beautiful with his necklace resting on his boy's neck. Tom watched his boy leave and sat for a few moments, adding some of his own notes to Slytherin's journal before standing up himself. He saw a group of Durmstrang students, including Viktor Krum, and decided to join them.

"I know you," Krum muttered. "You were with Harry Potter," he said as Tom said down.

"I am," Tom said simply, "He is my boy." He looked around the table and nodded at the students he recognized.

"Your boy?" one of them, he believed Dimitri, asked.

Tom smirked at that, "Yes, my boy," he said. "Come now, Dimitri, surely you are not… judgmental. After all, we all practice a type of magic some deem inappropriate."

Dimitri shuffled awkwardly. Krum cleared his throat and leaned towards Tom; his brows slightly furrowed. "When you say boy, you mean… dating, yes?"

"Yes, I do," Tom said. "Who else do you think would have given my boy his lovely necklace." He smirked, a vision of his Harry smiling in his mind.

"It looks rather tight on his neck, aren't necklaces supposed to be down on the chest?" Dimitri asked. Tom and Krum both laughed.

"Did you hear this boy? Riddle, yes? He calls Harry Potter his boy! Not his little girlfriend or boyfriend," Krum said. "This isn't little kids' stuff."

Tom nodded, "Agreed," he said. "Harry Potter is my boy. He is mine. I care for him, obviously, however, I will not allow anyone to even think that they can take him away from me." He placed his hand to his neck and smirked. "Harry's necklace is a sign to both him and others: Harry Potter belongs to Tom Riddle."

"Good, I like that," Krum said with a nodding smirk. "You are lucky, I am still looking for a boy like that." His eyes glanced, for a moment, at Dimitri. "People need to know when your boy is off-limits, just as your boy needs to know that you are in charge."

"However it has to be natural, subtle," Tom said. "You cannot force such things; he must understand and accept his role. Approach it willingly and lovingly. My sweet darling is on the way for that."

"So… this is training?" Dimitri asked, confused.

"No, boy, you do not understand," Krum said, sounding annoyed. "This is not training, but—what is the word—molting? Molding? Molding. You are molding your boy into who you want him to be."

"And that is the best version of himself," Tom added. "With Harry, I want to see him perfect himself! He has so much to offer. He is powerful, intelligent, cunning, and very kind. I want him to see what I see when I see him, a beautiful prince."

"Exactly!" Krum nodded, smiling. "It is not about turning your boy into something you want, but the best version that he can be! It is just sometimes; he needs a stern voice and a strong hand." He smirked.

"And I believe Harry and I are doing swimmingly at that," Tom chuckled. "Because of the First Task, he is not allowed to use magic for a week at least, so I took his wand. He's a bit pouty about it, but he has not made too much of a fuss, mostly because he knows that I will return his wand the second Madam Pomfrey says that he can use magic."

"Why?" Dimitri asked. "I mean, you are molding the boy, yah? Why not keep his wand?"

Tom frowned at Dimitri and glanced at Krum who shook his head, slightly disappointed. "You were not listening," he muttered.

"I have Harry's wand because Madam Pomfrey told us it is dangerous for him to use magic," Tom explained, as though it was obvious. "This isn't a punishment at all or anything to prove something about ourselves. This is just a simple, funny little thing to do." His smile turned into a humored smirk. "Besides, if Harry really needed his wand, if it was a real emergency, I would give it to him in an instant."

"This isn't about holding things back from the boy, you fool," Krum added. "This is about helping him develop."

"As well as doing a little teasing," Tom smirked. He pulled out Slytherin's grimoire and stared at it for a moment. "The magic that Harry used in the First Task… it's powerful, very powerful. I want him to reach a point where he can use it effectively. But he cannot do that unless he learns his limits. Unless I learn his limits." Tom sighed and shook his head. "I'm not even sure why it is I am sharing this with you, Krum, for until this deadly tournament is over, I see you as an enemy."

"Is that so?" Krum asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. You intend to win, which would make my darling lose," Tom chuckled, putting the grimoire back. "I cannot allow that. I need to see just how much Harry can do, and in order to do that, my darling needs to win. He must practice and train, pushing his limit bit by bit until we both can see his truest potentials. So naturally, you stand in the way of that. As does Cedric Diggory and Fleur Delacour."

"And your befriending of Durmstrang students—was this all a way to get to me?" Krum asked.

"Please, no. Do not think of yourself to be that important," Tom said dismissively. He stood up and looked around the table. "I've pursued friendships because I felt like it, I saw similarities between us. Besides, I have said that you are only my enemy during the Triwizard Tournament. If I find some use of you afterward, or even if Harry somehow strikes up a friendship with you, then I am sure we will see each other again."

Krum's eyes narrowed. His fists clenched as his amused look turned into a scowl. "People don't use me," he said.

"Funny," Tom hummed. "That is not how I see it." Believing he has spent enough time in the library, enough so it is not obvious where he will be going next, Tom left, milling about around the second floor before heading into the Chamber of Secrets.

The next day, Madam Pomfrey brought Harry and Tom into the Hospital Wing to check on Harry's magical core. He was given the okay to use magic again and Harry felt like he could jump ten feet into the air.

"You hear that? Give me back my wand now," Harry said, smirking triumphantly at Tom as soon as Madam Pomfrey walked away.

The taller teen gave a sigh and pulled out Harry's wand. "And here I was just getting used to sleeping with it near me. I suppose I'll have to simply replace it with you in my bed," he said.

"Tom!" Harry blushed. Tom closed the distance between them and slipped Harry's wand into his pocket.

"I think I rather enjoy the idea, don't you, darling?" Tom breathed before giving him a small, innocent kiss. Harry nodded before realizing what he was agreeing to. He blushed deeply and licked his lips when he did realize.

Harry quickly scoffed as he snapped out of his daze. "Come on," he muttered. "We have Transfiguration soon and I do not want to be late because of you!"

"May, I never knew you were so studious Harry," Tom chuckled.

"No, it is because I am deeply afraid of what Hermione will do if she learns the reason why I'm late," Harry said in a serious tone. "Come on." He grabbed Tom's hand, and, for a moment, Tom watched in full admiration as Harry marched out without any masks on, his pure and raw emotions on display. He kept holding Tom's hand the entire way to class and tightened his hold when they finally reached it, pulling Tom to sit next to him. Grinning widely, Harry's eyes seemed to shine like emeralds as he looked at Tom, and Tom couldn't help but give a genuine smile back.

A/N: Kisses and presents! And Tom's sneaking planning. Thank you all for reading, and have a good day! Please review!