It was something of an enigma to Harry, the way he got up in the morning.

Enigma. What a curious word.

It was always astonishing how the body could adjust itself automatically without the person even realizing it.

He'd wake at the same time every day, his mental clock already set without his permission, not that it ever needed direction or instructions. He'd greet Ron if he was awake and sometimes if he wasn't, if only by habit, and say hello to his other housemates. He'd get to the bathroom, wash his hair, maybe brush it, or at least try to tame the lion's mane he called hair, then decide not to because he liked Tom's face when he didn't, and walk out, semi-ready to take on the day.

It was different now.

He woke even earlier than he did before. After their most recent interaction concerning whom he enjoyed bending over for, he didn't want to speak to any of his housemates, and Ron still wasn't talking to him.

Ron.

Toxic, jealous, typical Ron.

Harry sometimes wondered why he was still friends with the boy. Harry supposed that everybody had their moments, although Ron was known for having a little too many of them. But Ron, unfortunately for Harry, was incredibly generous with all the bad moments he had.

He sometimes didn't even use the bathroom in their room, feeling too vulnerable. Too easy to attack while his guard was down. Tom was kind enough (or protective enough) to let Harry use the Prefects bathroom. Still, it would have been nice to be able to sleep in his own room without being afraid of his housemates.

And Harry was never ready to take on the day now. The day included unforeseen challenges he'd never encountered before. People were now cornering him, trying to hex him or ask for confirmation about rumors on which boy he was dating now. People whispered slurs to him as they passed him by in the hallways so quietly as to make sure only he heard it and none of the other professors.

And the stares. Their stares were the worst. They watched him and looked at him from afar without really seeing him. And they whispered, preferring to talk about him than to him, spreading false rumors about him. In fact, judging on what Hermione had been telling him, everyone thought he was dating Cedric Diggory for some reason. He'd spoken to the boy a grand total of three times, and all of them were Harry asking him to move his hand so he could see the Transfiguration board. Of course, not counting the Triwizard Tournament would bump the three count to ten.

But the only thing that didn't change was Professor Dumbledore and Snape.

Sorry, Professor Snape.

It was sad that the only people he could count on to act normal as they did before were the ones who wanted him to become a sacrificial lamb of some sort and the ones who had to pretend to hate him, so someone else didn't get any ideas.

Ironically enough, they were also both the only gay professors.

Not just sad.

Downright depressing.

Luckily for him, a few people had changed for the better.

Hermione wasn't ignoring Ron and Harry, so Harry had her undying support.

"You're my person Harry," Hermione told him one night after astronomy. "I need you, and I know you need me."

Hermione hadn't an idea how right she'd been. Harry had never had a person before. His mom always had his Professor Shape (and wasn't that just weird?), James and Sirius, Remus and Sirius, the entire friend group (except for Pettigrew).

"I've never had a person before?" Harry had told Hermione that night on the astronomy tower. "Am I a good one?"

"The best." Hermione had told him.

"The weird thing is that I didn't even know." He'd heard Seamus say one night while he was pretending to be asleep, covers drawn around his bed. "You'd think I'd have caught him looking at us one too many times for it to be normal."

"And Quidditch too," Dean added.

"Seamus, you're not even attractive enough to be ogled by a mountain troll, let alone another human being," Neville snapped at the other boy, and Harry sent a quick thank you to him in his mind.

May Merlin bless Neville, and his extended family, and crushes, and people who like him, and anyone he's looked at, and all the plants he's touched.

It thankfully shut Seamus up for the night.

It didn't, however, shut Tom up.

("Maybe because he wasn't there when it happened?" Death suggested. "I, of course, could be wrong.")

"Harry, did you even get to sleep last night?" Tom asked, his voice leaking worry like the emotion was coming out of him the way the water came from a broken pipe or Myrtle's bathroom.

Harry ignored Tom pointedly, causing the older boy to huff indignantly, although he still sounded a bit too amused for Harry's liking.

"Harry, I said I was sorry-" Harry felt his eye begin to twitch, the way it always did when he started becoming upset. Tom always called it an endearing trait, but Harry always hated it because it conveyed his emotions to anyone looking at his face in a way he couldn't hide.

Or made him look like a crazy person. Or worse, Bellatrix.

And if there was one thing Harry was good at, great at, even, it was hiding his emotions from other people.

Except for Tom. Tom was the exception.

"And I told you to shove that apology up your arse," Harry responded curtly.

Tom pursed his lips. "What more do you want from me?" Tom asked him like the bloody bastard didn't know already.

"You could start with letting the murder lizard back in her cage, but I suppose that's too much to ask from you."

"Harry, I can't." Tom insisted as he had been for the past few days. Harry felt his eye twitch.

"Because she's lonely, huh?" Tom's mouth moved like he wanted to protest, but Harry continued to barrel through. "Who freaking cares? It's a giant murder demon put there by Salazar Slytherin himself, and you mean to tell me that because it's lonely, you won't put it back?" Tom's mouth flattened in annoyance.

"When you say it like that, I sound like a terrible person," Tom complained, and Harry snorted.

"You are a terrible person," Harry stated.

"Even worse than I usually am." Tom amended.

"Impossible," Harry said and felt himself starting to smile despite his previous decision to remain upset with Tom. Tom smiled softly at him, tilting his head towards Harry's.

"Harry," Tom whispered.

"Tom," Harry pressed their foreheads together. "I know you won't stop."

"Won't or can't?" Tom questioned.

"Won't, because I know you, and I know the type of person you are," Harry sighed. "But I don't want you to leave me."

"I'd never leave you."

"Even if I snitched on you to Professor Dumbledore?"

"I'd assume you'd visit me in Azkaban."

"I highly doubt Professor Dumbledore would ship you off to Azkaban like you're a common criminal. Bellatrix, on the other hand…." Harry trailed off, and Tom snorted at him in amusement. Harry lifted his hand to brush Tom's curls out of his face.

Tom wrapped his hand in Harry's smaller one. "I love you so much." and that single statement filled Harry with such an incredible, unexplainable, irreplaceable warmth.

"Tom, you emotionally constipated jerk-" Tom laughed boisterously. "I love you too. More than anything."

Harry's lips brushed over Tom's, making them impossibly close, yet Harry still wanted to be closer. "But get rid of the fucking lizard."

Tom laughed into their kiss.

Harry sat next to Hermione in Charms like he had been for the past three and a half weeks. Ron, still ignoring them, sat next to Seamus, which probably wasn't the brightest idea, as Ron seemed to realize as soon as Professor Flitwick began lecturing the class.

"Poor Ron," Hermione mumbled over to him as class began, and Seamus began pestering him for answers, similar to what Ron would do to Hermione since neither Seamus nor Ron ever paid attention in any class. The only difference was that Hermione actually had the answers and was willing to give them, and Ron was the exact opposite. He'd probably forget to put his head on his shoulders every morning without Hermione there to remind him. Lucky for him, it was attached to his head.

"Yes, poor ickle Ronny baby," Harry said in fake sympathy before rolling his eyes. Hermione had to slap a hand over her mouth to suppress a snicker.

"And what, Ms. Granger, what would I get if I were to say the incantation ' Locomotor Mortis' ?" Professor Flitwick said as he interrupted their conversation.

"The Leg-Locker curse, Professor," Hermione piped up. No one else bothered to raise their hand, knowing that Hermione would wave her hand widely until she was called on.

"Correct, Ms. Granger, five points to Gryffindor. Due to rather popular demand, we will be learning this curse a little earlier than we usually do. It might interfere with some of our curricula, but nothing a little extra homework can't fix." The class groaned at this while Hermione perked up, visibly excited. "Ready?" Professor Flitwick asked, bringing his hand out with a swish. "Wands out!"

"Popular demand, huh?" Harry mumbled, slouching in his seat as he pulled his wand out very harshly. "How many Galleons you want to bet I know exactly who they want to use this curse on." Hermione patted his thigh in sympathy.

Harry was practicing his wand movements when he felt it.

A wand.

A fucking wand.

A wand hit Harry on the back of the head. Harry turned around to see Dean smiling in fake sympathy

while Seamus had his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Ron had his lips firmly put together in a thin line, keeping them pursed, keeping himself silent and neutral.

Neutral. Harry wanted to scoff. There were no gray parties here. There was only one side or the other. Black or white.

(power and those too weak to seek it)

And Ron so clearly favored the side that wasn't Harry's now, although Hermione continued to faithfully tell Harry to be patient and that Ron would come around eventually .

Eventually.

If Ron was really Harry's 'best friend,' he'd come around now, not eventually .

"Oops," Dean said, smirking cruelly. "Flicked it too hard."

Harry smiled back at him. Harry could feel the other student's eyes on him as they watched the ordeal in anticipation of what would come next. Of what Harry would do. Like he was a performance act at the circus, ready to make them laugh, or gasp, or whatever emotion they demanded to feel that particular day.

Sometimes , Harry thought , life wasn't fair . He didn't even ask , despite whatever Professor Snape was saying to the faculty after hours, for this to happen. People just didn't know how to keep him out of their fucking business.

So Harry smiled, a blinding white smile that he'd learned from Tom.

A fake smile, one befitting of a liar.

And stepped on Dean's wand, enjoying the familiar crunch of breaking wood under his foot.

Harry handed the splintered pieces back to Dean, reveling in the shocked look on his face. "Hold on to it tighter next time." sickly sweet smile in place. Dean takes the wand pieces out of Harry's hand, his own shaking as he does so.

Dean was the only one unable to complete the charm that day, and Harry saw him asking Ron how he'd managed to keep his wand together, if only for a short while, in his second year, when it had been smashed by the Whomping Willow.

Ron could only give him spellotape and an apologetic look.

Hermione cornered him after Charms class. Harry watched Dean slink out as to not catch Harry's attention, as if he wasn't the one who had initiated everything in the first place. Harry snapped his teeth at Dean, and the boy ran off in fear, Seamus and Ron between his legs. "You know Dean's going to have to buy a new wand?" she asked as if he didn't already know. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him as if wondering if the realization of the situation would finally catch on with him.

"So?" Harry snorted. Hermione reeled back, surprised.

"He's not rich."

"I didn't expect him to be. Maybe this will teach him to take better care of his stuff."

"Harry, I could almost swear you're enjoying this."

"You know me so well, Hermione."

"What did the old man want to talk to you about?" Tom cornered Harry as he left the Great Hall from dinner.

"Old-? You mean Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked incredulously.

"No, Professor Snape. Obviously, I mean Dumbledore."

"How do you even know about that?" Harry said as they began to walk to their respective common rooms.

"I make it my business to know everything about everyone." Harry raised a disbelieving eyebrow at that.

"What's Ron's favorite food?" He questioned.

"Any," Tom answered dutifully.

"Color?" Harry asked Tom next as if the answer wasn't already painfully obvious.

"Red, for some strange reason," Tom answered sarcastically. Harry snorted.

"Best friend?" Harry asked smugly. He had Tom backed in a corner now.

("Oh, do you?" Death snorted somewhere. "Please.")

"You, because he's in love with Hermione," Tom answered him swiftly.

Harry paused at that. Even he didn't know that. "You know, that's a little creepy." Tom rolled his eyes.

"So I've been told, but you still haven't answered the question."

"He wanted to know if I'd had any new nightmares lately," Harry answered. Which he hadn't been, and he had told Professor Dumbledore as much. Harry was 100% he wasn't as invested in the other students' sleep schedules as he was in Harry's. Then again, no other student had been what he'd been through or had dreams like him.

"Have you?" Tom questioned him predictably. Harry rolled his own eyes now.

"No."

"Remember that you have to appease me." as if Harry didn't think about it every waking moment.

"I haven't , Tom." Harry defended himself.

"You sound defensive," Tom said next as an explanation for his questioning and doubt.

"Accused people tend to defend themselves, yes. Tom, you surprised me. I thought you knew this," Harry said mockingly.

"Not only was that a bad imitation of Professor Dumbledore ," Tom said, mocking the way Harry always corrected him, "it further proves my point."

"What's your point?" Harry asked when Tom said nothing else.

"You," Tom leaned in close to him. "Are a little shit ."

Harry squawked in outrage. Just as he was about to say something particularly scathing , he was interrupted by a laugh and a voice.

"Potter," a familiar voice said behind him. Harry's eyebrow twitched for what felt like the one-hundredth time that day.

("Oh, today is not your day, love." Death said. "How sad. My poor baby,")

"Yes, Malfoy?" Harry asked, turning around slowly, trying to control his emotions.

Today was really not his day.

"Is it true?" Malfoy asked him. Harry knew what the other boy was trying to wheedle out of him, but that didn't mean Harry would give it up easily. Other people who'd been previously minding their own business (mostly) now stopped to watch the confrontation between Harry and Draco.

Oh my god, did Harry wish people in the Wizarding World weren't so fickle with their loyalties, weren't so cowardly? If there was one thing Harry Potter and Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore of Hogwarts could agree on, it was the fickleness of wizarding society.

"Oh, don't tell me you don't know! You practically ran out of Hogwarts when the Weaselette outed you!"

Oh, for fucks sake. This was really what Draco wanted to do now? Wasn't there something else he could talk about? There was no other drama? Were his problems really keeping the Hogwarts gossip chain alive?

"Maybe I did," Harry said, turning around slowly. The student body held their breath as they waited in anticipation of what Harry would say next. "At least she didn't go and out you. "

A chorus of "ooooohhhhh" reverberated through the hall. Draco turned a deep crimson. Harry put on a mask of innocence as if he just now only realized what he'd said. Harry could feel Tom roll his eyes. "So dramatic, Harry," Tom would say.

Well, it was a good thing Harry was pissed right now and didn't give a flying, flipping fuck about what he thought.

Which was a bold-faced lie, but like, whatever. Who cares? Certainly not Harry, or Tom, or that weird disembodied voice in Harry's had that identified as Death and constantly switched pronouns.

"Oh, sorry," Harry said at the look of shock and outrage on Draco's face. "Were you planning to tell your father about this?" Draco reeled back like he'd been slapped. Harry once again basked in the glow of pushing his tormentors down. Honestly, if you throw a frog in hot water, it's bound to jump out. Harry just jumps out and punches you.

The student body snickered as Draco's famous line was used against him. Professor Snape looked like he wanted to intervene, but Professor Dumbledore held out a hand to stop him.

("Oh, this man." Death shook their head. "Always scheming." He chuckled)

"You think you're so tough?" Draco snarls, stepping forward. "You bent little bastard?" Draco turned his nose upwards, wrinkling it as if he'd smelled something particularly disgusting.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why, yes, in fact, I do, Malfoy."

Draco stepped closer until he was standing directly in Harry's face. Harry was a little shorter than Draco was, so Draco had to tilt his head down slightly. "Let's see how tough you look on a bed in St. Mungo's,"

Draco began to pull out his wand.

"Spell him, you daddy's boy, and no one will find your body for the next ten years," Hermione interrupted. She drew her own wand out. "Are you mad? You really think your dad will help you escape punishment if you curse Harry in a hallway full of witnesses?" Hermione scoffed. "I guess I've just answered my own question."

"Move, you little mudblood." Draco pushed past Hermione. He opened his mouth.

" Petrificus Totalus ," Harry said calmly. Draco fell, still as stone. " Calvorio ," he said for good measure. Draco's platinum blonde locks fell off his head, leaving him with an egg-shaped head.

"Mr. Potter!" came Professor McGonagall's outraged voice. Harry turned to face her.

"Forgive me, Professor," Harry began. "But the bastard had it coming for him. Judging by how red with anger Professor McGonagall's face turned, Harry guessed that this wasn't enough of a justification.

Well, fuck.

"It wasn't that bad, Tom." Harry insisted. "She just gave me a warning, but that was all. Professor Snape looked like he wanted to strangle me, though," Tom snarled. Harry let Tom pull him closer, amused.

"As if I'd let him," he said, holding Harry's face, cradling him possessively. Harry patted the top of his head.

"Good boy," watching with revel how Tom soaked up and preened at the praise. Harry pulled Tom closer.

"Want to stay overnight?" Harry whispered lowly. "Ron won't miss me, I'm sure."

Tom hesitated, surprising Harry. "I can't tonight, love. I wish I could,"

"How come you can't?" Harry asked, pouting a bit.

"Prefect duties. We have to patrol extra because of the petrification's." Harry raises an eyebrow.

"And whose fault is that?" he asks sarcastically.

Tom smiles. "In a few moments, it will be Hagrid's for breeding dangerous giant spiders on school grounds." Harry's eyes widened in shock.

"You wouldn't," Harry mutters, knowing full well that Tom would.

"Unless you want Hogwarts to close, I think you'll find I will," Tom leaves Harry in the library, not checking back to see if Harry was heading back to his dorm. But Tom knew he would. Tom knew all.

And Tom knew where his Horcrux was going to go as he headed down to the chamber of secrets.