Chapter 12

Adrenaline is one heck of a drug because Harry was fully awake, with the closest weapon available in his hand, the gun he had stored under the pillow, and firing a shot before he even knows what he's aiming at. He just knows that it is not Riddle. He fires two more times before thinking about finding his wand. It had been right by the gun but it must have rolled during the night. It took a few seconds of fumbling to find it. He tried a lumos three times before he giving up. Right, right, no magic. He knew that. He has to fight the sheets that were trapping his legs to carefully walk towards the door with his gun pointed at the corner the intruder was hiding. Riddle was still shouting his head off so Harry wastes no time in turning the light on.

Regulus Black was slumped in the corner, bleeding from three different bullet wounds and in no shape to fight but Harry kept the gun carefully pointed at his head as he assessed Riddle. Riddle was still on the bed with his eyes closed and seemingly peacefully sleeping.

Harry frowned in confusion at Riddle's very closed, very relaxed mouth. The fuck...? The shouting is in his head, Harry suddenly realized and launches at Riddle to see what's wrong.

"Move and the next shot is to your head," Harry warned.

"Harry," Regulus gasped wetly. "Don't you understand? He'll never give up power."

"Then you fucking move to another country or I don't know, postulate yourself as a political opponent," Harry snapped with exasperation. He could have been sleeping on a heavenly bed right now. But no, he was shooting a diagnostic test on Riddle like an idiot. And of course, it doesn't work. It's not a spell he feels confident doing wandless, if wandless magic was even an option right now.

He checks for breathing and pulse. Riddle's chest isn't rising and Harry doesn't feel a pulse for ten seconds. He sends an SOS text to Martinez and Pike before opening a small bottle of Phoenix tears he keeps for emergencies. His hands shake and he accidentally gives Riddle the entire bottle of tears instead of the one or two he had been aiming for. He's sending the bill to Riddle as soon as the bastard has a pulse. He checks for a pulse again. Still nothing. He drags Riddle's body to the floor and starts chest compressions.

"Don't bother... It's too late," Black panted with a bloody smile.

"Speak for yourself, buddy," Harry shot back. He was valiantly ignoring the puddle of blood from Black that was slowly soaking his knees as he continued compressions.

"This is my last gift for the Wizarding World," Black wheezed as he collapsed.

"Oh no. You are not dying. I'll make sure you survive today."

Like a rising tide, he felt Riddle's presence watching through his eyes in mounting horror. "It's fine. You are fine. Relax," Harry murmured.

I'M DEAD! Harry flinched back with the force of Riddle's roar in his brain.

Yeah, a little dead right now. Nothing we won't fix. Relax and let me work.

I'M DEAD!

And you'll stay dead if you don't calm the fuck down and let me pump blood to your brain until whatever the fuck you were dosed with runs out of your system.

How I'm I in your head?

Let's worry about that later, ok? Hospital first. Just..uh...hang with me until you have a pulse.

The front door of the apartment crashed open and heavy footsteps thundered through. Thank fucking god, help.

They might be more assassins. Hide!

If I stop compressions you die-die. Harry felt Riddle warring with the decision and reminded him, It's my choice to make. Besides' I'm sure. I would recognize those elephant steps anywhere.

The door of the room hit the wall with a bang and Pike and Martinez were beside Harry in seconds taking over. Pike went directly to Riddle while Martinez took Black.

Don't let them take my body. Follow them!

I will. Give me a second, ok?

Why are you this tired? What's wrong with you?

I'm fine. It's just. You are heavy you know? It's kind of crowded in here. It's like an elephant sitting on my chest.

Don't tell me you are having a heart attack!

Is this what this is? Fucking sucks. We'll follow your body; just give me a second to catch my breath.

Harry got to his knees and using the wall he pushed himself up and walked to the kitchen that was rapidly filling with Aurors. Someone took him by the elbow.

"Medics! Something is wrong with Potter."

"He might also be poisoned."

"Not poison," Harry grunted. "Take me to the hospital. Now." His vision was blurring and each breath felt like a knife. As much as it hurt, he held to Riddle's soul fiercely and forced it to stay there. To assimilate. To find a bit of room inside his body, as the pain got progressively worse. He couldn't hear Riddle over the ringing in his ears, but he could feel this giant in his head, and in his torso that was foreign and did not fit but somehow was still there.

Once a Horocrux, always a Horocrux, Harry guessed. But he wasn't a baby anymore, and this wasn't a sliver of a soul.

He just needed five more minutes, he thought, as he was being floo-ed to the hospital. Just five more minutes as he was set on a bed and diagnostic test after diagnostic test was done. Five more minutes, as he vomited last night's tacos and then all of his gastric juices and kept reaching because his body wanted to expulse something but wasn't clear on how to go about it. When five minutes became an eternity it became one more minute. Just one. Breathe and hold on for one extra minute.

Where the fuck was Riddle's body? He needed to know if it was safe because he couldn't hold out much longer.

Harry, don't let go.

"I'm not fucking letting go," Harry snapped, making a Healer jump in fright. "I just need an update on the situation."

"Sir! Sir! You can't get up. Sir! Lay back down, we are doing all we can. Mr. Riddle is in safe hands."

Harry felt soft restrains magically bind him to the bed when he clumsily tried to get up.

"Please, I need to go see Riddle. Please, just one moment."

"Sir, you are in no condition to visit anyone right now and Mr. Riddle is in no condition to receive visitors."

Harry started crying as he felt the pain intensify to unbearable levels. No torture he had ever received reached this level. He was going to lose his mind to the pain. Where was his wand? He patted his pockets and found his cellphone. He couldn't see the screen but he marked the talk button twice to call the last person he talked with.

"Harry! Harry! Where are you? They say you are at the hospital too?" He heard Pike through the small speaker.

"Help, please come," Harry sobbed. "Please come." His phone was yanked from his hand and he heard the same healer assure Pike he was disoriented and talking gibberish. Harry screamed as he felt as if someone was tearing his abdomen.

It felt as if he closed his eyes for one moment.

When he opened them again he was in a dark room, lying on a small hospital bed. He wasn't restrained anymore so he shifted and moved to see where he was. The room was softly illuminated with nightlights and Riddle was on a queen-sized bed beside him.

"Why is your bed bigger?" Harry slurred.

Riddle snorted. "That's what you ask?"

"Yes. I find it highly unfair."

"I'm glad you are ok, Harry."

"Me too." Harry turned around and was half asleep before realizing he should return the sentiment. "I mean. I'm glad you are ok too."

Harry woke up to the sun brilliantly shining from the windows and a Healer talking to Riddle. He pretended to still be asleep to not have to acknowledge the person or the conversation. He felt like grated cheese.

"One thing went really wrong for you and two things went really right. You were dosed with Instant Death, but were immediately dosed with just enough Phoenix tears to repair the worst of the damage seconds later by the first person that saw you and the second person that found you is the only Poison Specialist in the country with the knowledge and materials needed to gain you the extra half hour that the Healers needed to repair your body. Somehow, miraculously, your soul did not part to the other side. Mr. Riddle, you survived an unsurvivable event. Your will to live must be incredible."

"I understand I was very lucky. Any word yet on why Mr. Potter was affected?"

"No sir. We were unable to find any cause for his malady. It may have been a strong emotional reaction to the night. Thankfully it seems to have passed."

Harry snorted, destroying any chance of pretending to still be sleeping but he kept his eyes closed and his smile hidden. Strong emotional reaction my ass. The Healer made his goodbyes with promises of coming back soon.

"Harry," Riddle called when the door closed.

"Hmmm?" Harry threw the blanket on top of his face to block out the sun. Immediately the room darkened and he didn't even notice falling asleep.

"Harry," Riddle started seriously. Harry perked up from his slouched position in the lounge chair flipping through shitty hospital cable TV. "There's something important we need to talk about."

That doesn't sound good. Harry looked from MTV top 10 hits to Riddle and considered if he needed to turn off the TV after finally finding a good channel or if muting it would be ok.

"I think you are my soulmate."

Harry laughed and turned the volume a bit up. "Yeah, pal, we are soulmates alright. And next week I'll marry the love of my life, Martinez."

"I'm serious."

"So I'm I." How can someone have all the facts and reach all the wrong conclusions, Harry wondered.

"How else what happened to us be possible? You literally held my soul in your body to prevent me from passing over."

Harry stopped pretending to pay attention to Riddle and went back to MTV. "Soulmates don't exist outside of corset-ripping novels where it is a convenient excuse for the protagonist not seeking therapy for clearly unhealthy behaviors because of the false belief that there is someone perfect for them that will accept all of their bullshit."

"Then how you would explain what happened?" Riddle asked frustrated.

"I don't know, but there are many things I don't know and the world doesn't stop spinning. Soulmates are not a thing, have never been a thing and no one has ever proved they are a thing."

"This article in souls and soul-vessels can in part explain some of what happened. The author is anonymous but it is believed they are the leading expert in the field because this is the most complete information on the subject. We are soulmates. It makes perfect sense." So that was what Riddle had been doing all morning. Harry could have saved him the trouble.

"Let me see that. I know that article. It doesn't talk about soulmates or any such rubbish."

"Not by name, but the article seems to hint at it."

"It doesn't hint, mention, suggest, or allude to soulmates," Harry said carelessly as he continued to flip through channels. MTV had lost its appeal.

"How would you know?"

"How would I know?" Harry asked incredulously with a laugh. He threw the paper back at Riddle. "The author is HJP, I wonder who can that be? Man, you are going to have to scourge the world to find them," Harry said with an insufferable smirk as he found the magical version of the James Bond movie.

Riddle looked at him with a blank face for a few seconds before saying softly, "Sometimes I really hate you."

Harry laughed as he turned back to the movie. "That I can believe."

"You are so easy to detest. Are you sure no one has tried to kill you before? Because you make it tempting."

Harry snorted and pointedly did not answer that. Maybe. Maybe a few people had tried to kill him. Once or twice. Or twenty times. At least twice for being annoying. "Well as the newly declared leading expert in the field, I'm telling you, soulmates are not a thing."

"When did you become an expert on souls?" Riddle asked with irritation.

"Misspent youth."

The answer seemed to annoy an already annoyed Riddle. "When did you publish it?"

"It was an assignment on an elective at Ilvermorny. The professor convinced me on publishing it." After a few beers and a lost bet.

"You wrote thirty pages with the most complete information about souls, soul-vessels, and the damage of killing curses on the soul I could find ...for an assignment...on an elective...at Ilverorny."

"Yes."

"It has detailed instructions in the appendices on how to do every ritual mentioned. You know how impossible that is to find?"

"Because it's a bitch to publish detailed instructions about rituals especially about things as delicate as rituals that mess with your soul. I had to jump through hoops to have it included. But the damage people do doing the wrong ritual because they are following vague instructions is worse than what the actual ritual does."

"I read this paper the month it came out. I was really impressed and tried to find the author. And all this time you were at the Ministry basement shuffling papers."

"I was busy working, doing my Master's AND inventing an extremely complex spell capable of multilayer, individual reasoning for tackling problems without human input," Harry corrected because to say he was shuffling papers was saying he was wasting his second chance at life. And he had Strong Opinions about not wasting his second shot at life.

"I feel that Britain's school system failed you."

The movie had him rolling his eyes at the absurdity. "Studying advanced subjects is not just about intelligence. I probably did not have the emotional maturity as a teenager that I had at twenty-five to tackle a complex subject with nuance. Besides, I was probably a ball of teenage angst. There's no way anyone could have forced me to study soul-vessels in a dusty library." Unless it was life or death. Even then, he had been more than happy to delegate to Hermione. "I would have been too worried about a crush not liking me to care about life after death."

Harry turned to look at the door when he heard the handle move to see Pike entering. "What are you talking about life after death after you nearly gave a heart attack?" Pike said in greeting as he let the door bang against the wall, his hands full of bags of greasy food. Riddle sent Pike a withering glare, but put his wand away and did not oppose the intrusion. Not that it would have made a difference to either Pike or Harry.

"I hope you don't have tacos in there. I feel I can never eat them again without wanting to throw up."

"Hamburgers and chips."

"We are talking about Harry's surprising knowledge of souls and soul vessels. Apparently, he is the leading expert."

"That... doesn't surprise me, actually."

"It doesn't?" Riddle pressed. Harry also looked at Pike in confusion. To his knowledge, Pike doesn't know anything about Horcruxes or Deathly Hallows. Harry barely acknowledges it to himself much less talks about it.

"Haven't you heard?" Pike said. "Harry is catnip for necromancers."

Ah.

That.

Harry was uncomfortable with Riddle's piercing stare.

"No... I did not know that." Riddle seemed to be just about done with his bullshit.

"They do seem to be...drawn to me for some reason," Harry agreed when Riddle looked like he would commit murder if he dodged another question.

"It's like they see Harry and he becomes their religion." Pike, shut up. "Whatever Harry wants or needs or makes him happy becomes their purpose. If Harry frowns they become agitated like an angry beehive. I'm sure that if Harry asked about souls or soul-vessels they'd be more than happy to find every text known to mankind that had the word and thank Harry for the opportunity."

Riddle looked at Harry, "Is that true?"

"It's difficult to explain, but they do seem... invested in me." Obsessed.

"What do you think caused it?"

Harry shrugged. "Who knows?" And proving that Harry does not fear death, he said, "Misspent youth."

"You can't blame EVERYTHING on your misspent youth," Riddle almost shouted, surprising Pike with the intensity. Harry did a bad job of hiding his smile. Really, Riddle could be the cutest sometimes. So easy to rile up. Harry signaled Pike to pass a burger and went back to passively watch the movie while he ate.

"Well, there were teenagers and then there was Potter."

"I know, right? I feel if anyone can abuse the misspent youth excuse is me," Harry explained as he dug into the bag for fries. Fishing for the small crispy ones that were always at the bottom of the bag. Those were always the best.

"You don't even remember!" Riddle hissed.

"What's so mysterious about it? It was me but as an unsupervised teen and young adult with no shortage of time, poor impulse control, and the survival skills of a toddler. I have no doubt I touched something I wasn't supposed to touch, doing something I definitely wasn't supposed to be doing, in a place I had no business being. Multiple times." And if that wasn't a perfect summary of his teenage years, nothing was.

"You still need adult supervision," Pike added. "Remember Brazil? We left you alone for a fucking half hour, Potter. Thirty minutes!"

"What happened in Brazil?"

"Nothing," Harry responded at the same time Pike responded, "Zombies."

"All things considered," Harry pointedly changed the subject, "I think that having the occasional Necromancer be nice to me is a benign side effect."

You know, among the other side effects he was ignoring.

"Is that the reason then?" Riddle asked at the very end of his short patience.

Harry blinked in confusion. "Is that the reason for what?"

"Are necromancers the reason you know so much about souls?"

Harry frowned. "God no."

Riddle really did get up and stormed from the room.

Harry turned to Pike, "You brought beer, right?"

"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't? I was just waiting for him to leave so we wouldn't have to share."

Harry made Pike get him a novel about soulmates from the Gift Shop. It was positively pornographic and he made sure to read parts of it out loud and comment his opinions on the ridiculous plot and anatomically impossible positions. In the name of entertainment of course. Hospitals could be very dull places.

"Should we get matching tattoos and tell people we were born with them?... It'd be fun to tell everyone we saw the world black and white but that when we met each other we suddenly could see colors...Big, Bad, and Mean being abusive again? Run girl, you deserve better...He's an ex? That's ten times worse. You never go back to your ex."

"You've never dated an ex?"

Harry looked up from the book he was reading spread out on the queen-sized bed to see Riddle with his quill posed but not touching the paper. "I thought you were ignoring me. And no, I don't talk to exes, I'm not friends with exes and I certainly never go back to an ex."

"Your not friends with exes? What if it was an amicable breakup?"

"Then in ten years, maybe, we can be friends."

Riddle dropped the quill and turned to face him. "Seriously? Not one ex is in your life?"

"None. And I like it like that. They are dead to me."

"Isn't that a bit harsh? People break up all the time. Sometimes for stupid reasons."

"Then it was someone that broke my heart for a stupid reason and doesn't deserve my time or friendship."

"What if they were your friend before you dated, would you be friends after?"

"I don't date friends for that reason. And I don't date within my friend circle. I want them completely out of my life after a breakup."

"What if you break up but want to try again?"

"There's no try again."

"So there's no room for mistakes with you?"

"Of course there is. As long as it is a conversation and not a breakup."

Riddle did not respond so Harry went back to reading and commenting on the book.

"I'm just gently teasing him," Harry defended when Pike confronted him.

"Is it? Is it really?" Pike questioned as he tried again to feed a pound to the vending machine. It kept spitting it back out and since it was the Wizarding World, with a hiss and actual spit. "Or is it hazing at this point?"

"I just want him to drop the subject and never mention it again. To cringe every time he remembers suggesting it."

"So he's right? You wouldn't care this much if he was wrong."

"He's not right, but too close to the truth for my taste. Soulmates are not real. But, sadly, we do have a unique soul connection that traveled through universes and bodies."

"Essentially what the myth of Soulmates says it is."

"Soulmates are not real."

"But soul connections are? Aren't you just being pedantic with the name?"

"The soul connection is there because he fucked with his soul and in the process fucked with mine. Look, I just want him to drop the subject. He knows it's there, he knows I know it's there, I just want it to go unacknowledged for the rest of our natural lives because functionally it is a vestige of another life with no real purpose right now."

"No purpose? None at all?"

Harry glared.

"Not one single tiny little thing of use for this?"

"No."

"Where is Riddle right now, Potter?"

"In the bathroom," Harry answered without having to think about it.

"And you know that three floors down? You can also apparently hold his soul in your body if it's life or death. So does it really have no purpose?"

"I'm going to make him drop the subject."

"Of course you are. He has developed an eye twitch every time you grab the book and it's only been a few hours. By all means, snuff the life of this new exciting thing he found until he finds it just as dull and depressing as you do. I believe in you, if anyone can do it, it's you...I just want to know what's got your panties in a twist with the subject?"

"Soulmates have a romantic connotation. It has preconceptions of what our relationship has to be like. We have a soul connection that it's a strange, random fluke of the universe, and it doesn't have to mean anything."

Pike hummed and annoyingly did not say anything.

It was their last night in the hospital and Harry was used to Riddle initiating these intimate moments without any wish for it to lead to sex. Harry was resigned that sex was off the table. Maybe Riddle didn't want or like sex or he didn't want sex with Harry but whatever the reason, Harry respected it. It didn't make it any easier for him to be in the same bed with an attractive man while that attractive man was studying your naked torso but Harry was determinedly watching an out of season Christmas movie and counting the number of red and green outfits the producers could fit in one hour thirty minutes. So far it was fifteen on what was supposed to be a three-day holiday vacation for the protagonists.

"You have a basilisk tattoo?"

Harry had just finished taking a shower in the ridiculously lavish (for a hospital) bathroom and had come out with long pajama pants from the gift shop and a towel around his shoulders ready to drop to his twin-size bed and sleep. But Riddle had been awake and working (shocking) and wanted some company.

"Yeah," Harry responded as he opened a candy bar wrapper with his teeth. Movies and snacks in Riddle's queen size hospital bed, while Riddle worked on whatever he had to work, did not seem like a bad plan. Pike had left enough vending matching snacks to last him a month.

"Why?"

Harry bit two-thirds of the bar in one single bite, offering the rest to Riddle who to Harry's surprise took it. "First off, they are cool, and second I guess to remind myself that I'm braver than I think I am."

"Why does a basilisk represent that for you?" Riddle asked as he ate the second half of the candy and threw the wrapper to the night table, work apparently forgotten for the night.

Harry thought about it, trying to put his experience with the Basilisk and the importance of it in his life without the whole 'I killed one when I was eleven and it was both cool and traumatizing. Let's not do that again,' because in this life that would be one big fat lie. The basilisk was probably happy and alive in the basement of Hogwarts and Riddle would know that.

"There are challenges in life that sometimes feel unbeatable and that are larger than life and make you feel small and impotent. The tattoo reminds me that I have beaten those odds."

Riddle mulled on that before moving on to the next tattoo.

"A bear?"

"A Teddy bear. Let's skip that one for now." Riddle did not seem happy to skip over a tattoo but continued on exploring Harry's tattoos, moving Harry's left arm this and that way for any small tattoo that he might have missed before moving over.

"What are the chances that the quirky inn has only one room left and is a single bed room? I'm guessing 150%." That they are probably still not going to have sex in because this wasn't that kind of movie. Harry laughed. Maybe he was stuck in the wrong movie too.

"Harry?"

Harry looked from the screen to Riddle's face, "yeah?"

"Pay me attention."

Harry laughed. "I am paying you attention." Waaay more than I should for this platonic friendship to work. Harry forced his mind back to the movie and not how close Riddle was.

"Why a knife?"

Harry activated the tattoo and in one smooth motion was armed with a knife. "It's handy. Oh look, the car broke down during a snowstorm. Isn't that shocking and unpredictable."

Riddle took the knife from his slack hold and tested the edge. It could cut bone with the same ease as it could cut ropes. Harry mostly uses it to clean his nails. Not much action these days.

"Do you even know how to use it?"

Ouch.

Harry took the knife back and without looking away from the movie threw it at the wall. It landed on the eye of the healer promoting the new wing of the hospital. He immediately called back the knife to his hand and in one smooth motion returned the knife to the tattoo. Yeah, he was showing off a bit. Sue him. He had a bit of pride that Riddle had inadvertently stomped on. Harry rummaged through the plastic bag for some salty chips.

"So we are in agreement they will find a convenient cabin unlocked and with a functioning fireplace where they can spend a cozy night talking about their feelings?" Harry looked at Riddle when he didn't respond after a few seconds to see the man looking at him intently.

"What?" Harry questioned.

Riddle cleared his face of the expression. "I would have an asthma attack entering to an abandoned house and lighting the fireplace and I'm not even asthmatic."

"I know, right? And they are even using the moth-eaten blankets on the cupboard. I almost prefer to die of cold." But in the movie the blankets were conveniently new looking, soft, and fluffy.

"Who taught you to use a knife? And a gun for that matter."

"Martinez."

"What? What is that face for?"

Harry hadn't even noticed he had made a face. "He's going to force me back to training. I just know it. This is just giving him the perfect excuse to drag my ass back in shape."

"I thought you said you couldn't be forced to do anything," Riddle said as he took the bag of chips from Harry's hands to eat.

"I lied. He is going to guilt me into it. Say it's for his peace of mind to know I can defend myself. Just you wait. I can feel my sore muscles already. And the tinnitus from gun practice." He wasn't going to fuck around with ear safety this time around, that's for sure.

"I could help train you too. With magic. Guns and knives aren't my specialties."

"Don't worry about it. Martinez is particular about training and doesn't like to not be in control of every part of it."

"They could use a charm to clean the blankets."

"Haven't you been seeing the movie? She's a muggle that doesn't know he's a wizard so he can't use magic."

"Hmm. I must have missed that conversation."

Harry frowned at Riddle. "It's basically the whole plot."

"You've been distracting."

Harry felt an involuntary shiver go down his spine at the tone. He means nothing of it, Potter. Get your mind out of the gutter. "Fine, fine. I'll shut up and stop commenting on the movie. Pass me your computer if you are done with it."

"Why?"

"I haven't bought the concert tickets or hotel rooms. Now that I'm sure we are getting out of here tomorrow I have to buy them."

Harry took Riddle's credit card from his wallet and proceeded to buy the tickets.

"Is that the amount for all the tickets?"

"No, just one."

"That's absurd."

"We are meeting the band backstage and staying in a VIP area with food and drinks included."

"Then we can cut the number of people."

"It was you that decided to invite your whole circle."

"That was before I knew the cost per ticket. Lestrange is not worth one thousand five hundred pounds even if I sell him for organs." Harry laughed and reduced the number of people.

"Why aren't you booking hotel rooms?"

"Because I just saw an inspiring Christmas movie and now want the Bed and Breakfast experience."

"It's a ski resort."

"Same thing. It has the homey vibe."

"It's four times more expensive."

"Good thing money is not a problem."

"Give me back my credit card. I'm staying off your head. You are too damn expensive and your mind-to-mouth filter is nonexistent. It's practically hearing inside an echo chamber."

Yeah, cause Harry is no dummy and he doesn't let Riddle "hear" anything he's not willing to say out loud. Harry finished paying everything and passed Riddle his credit card and got back to the movie.

"Let me guess, they got together without a single conversation about their future with their wildly different lifestyles and goals, and who is going to compromise?"

"Yes."

"The perfect trainwreck setup for the sequel where he finds a nice country witch and she finds a nice city muggle boy and they both finally get their happy ending."

Riddle hummed and after a second asked, "What are your goals?"

"Traveling the world," Harry said automatically. "That hidden city El Dorado in Mexico is calling my name. So is that Dragon Palace in China."

"So you wouldn't consider settling in England?"

"Not in a million years. If I can convince Martinez and Pike to move out I'll never visit."

"You hate it here so much?"

Harry turned to face Riddle, to see his face hard and shuttered. He may have been a bit too honest with the all but in name King of the Wizarding World. He tried to find a single good thing about England but came short. "There are worse places in the world," Harry slowly acknowledged. "And no place is perfect."

"What exactly do you hate about it here?"

Everything and nothing since this wasn't the same place that betrayed him time and time again, but that emotional reaction was difficult to shake off.

"Nothing you can change, Riddle."

"You don't know that."

"Want to see another movie?"

"I want you to pay me attention."

"I am paying you attention."

"So what if you have a relationship here?"

Oh wow, they were having this conversation. Right now. With the movie credits playing in the background and without even a kiss beforehand. They might have been having this conversation for a while now that he thinks about it.

No matter the number of relationships he's had and the amount of times he's had to have this conversation, it didn't stop it from being horribly awkward. He scratched his neck and looked back at the tv. "Yeah, that's the thing...I'm not planning to have a relationship before moving."

"Oh."

There was an awkward moment where he was conscious of being shirtless in bed with Riddle before he closed the computer and got up with the excuse of putting the computer at the desk. Harry turned the TV off and went to wash his teeth again. Riddle was back working so Harry dropped to the twin-sized bed and went to sleep. He was almost asleep when Riddle called him.

"Harry?"

Harry turned to face Riddle's bed and see the man looking at him intently. "Yes?"

"In the article, you mention the possibility of humans being soul-vessels."

Harry felt his throat constrict. "Yeah."

"The article was published three years ago."

Harry exhaled slowly. "Yeah."

"You were never going to tell me were you?"

"No."