Chapter Fifteen

Harry wasn't the least surprised to see Riddle was back to his scheming. Potter didn't even have to ask Eduard anything - he saw him packing and was able to put two and two together. His peaceful, boring Christmas holidays were coming to an end, and Merlin knew what would happen next. Will he have another shot at obliviating Tom? What depths could Riddle stoop to in order to pry answers out of Harry?

Harry felt a new kind of anger towards Rosier. Just when he started seeing what his other roommates saw in him, just when the two of them actually learned how to have a proper conversation, the twat was flying off at Tom's first whistle.

Eduard packed his things, threw Harry a frown, nodded once, as if saying "good luck", and was off.

It was probably for the better. Potter wasn't going back any time soon, so facing Riddle one way or another was inevitable. Better sooner than later.

Harry walked up to the mirror hanging by the entrance and moved the collar of his shirt away to examine the pink bite mark. By this point he tried to do everything to mask it, but it just wouldn't let up.

Harry shook his head and continued pacing the room. It's been two hours since Rosier ran off, but Riddle still hadn't shown up. Perhaps, he was in the Common Room?

Harry put his school robe on and walked out of the dormitory. He started examining Slytherin's quarters.

The room was lit only by the fire in the fireplace, abandoned armchairs and sofas barely visible in the dark. Now that everyone was gone, the atmosphere grew positively creepy.

Harry made a circle around the room, wand at the ready, but there was no sign of Riddle.

What was on his mind?

Harry walked out of the faculty entrance and slowly made his way through the Dungeons, his wand being the only source of light. By Merlin, he could use the Marauder's Map right now. He wouldn't even need to face Tom the Terrible at all - just keep avoiding him until everyone gets back.

This thought stopped him dead in his tracks. Wait. That wasn't like him at all, was it? When would he ever hide from danger? He was a Gryffindor, after all.

Potter tapped the silver Slytherin badge on his chest with the tip of his wand. Yes, Gryffindor indeed. What a shame. Draco Malfoy would probably laugh his ass off if he knew where Harry ended up and how he's more inclined to avoid Riddle than face him.

With that thought Harry went on with the search. He narrowly avoided Mrs. Burgos in the library (although, "narrowly avoided" was an overstatement, as the woman was loudly snoring). He carefully checked the empty Great Hall - all tables clean, no sign of supper, or Riddle for that matter. He walked through the corridors, popping his head into some of the open class doors, and finally decided to check the Room of Requirement.

Harry turned around the corner, and, surely enough, there Riddle was, stepping out of the fading outline of the door.

- Another nostalgia trip to your beloved Chamber, eh? - Harry inquired sharply, trying to ignore the wave of adrenaline running down his spine.

Tom bit off a red apple he was holding in his hand and chewed on it nonchalantly, not bothering to react. How could he stay so calm after everything that happened?!

- It was another room, - he finally answered and pushed past Harry without sparing him a second glance.

- What room? - Harry followed behind.

Riddle bit his apple again, as Harry was struggling to catch up with his long strides.

- Just a hobby I have.

- What hobby, killing people?

Riddle stopped and looked around, checking the paintings on the walls, their inhabitants waking up and fussing at all the noise and light.

- Funny joke, Harry, - he replied without a smile, - Maybe you can lower your wand? You're blinding me and all these good people.

Potter grudgingly complied.

- What kind of hobby then, Riddle?

Tom finally turned to look at Harry with annoyance writ large on his face.

- Is that question really important to you now?

Harry's cheeks flared up from a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

- Why did you send Rosier off?!

Tom turned away and continued walking, and Harry hurried behind.

- I've grown tired of his face.

- That's the only reason?

Riddle chuckled and bit into his apple again. Why did he always seem to enjoy these uncomfortable discussions, while Harry had to suffer through them?

- Everything just has to be about Harry Granger, isn't that right?

- You tried to kill me!

- No, Harry. If I wanted to kill you, you wouldn't be here to pester me right now.

- Oh, I pester you! - Harry mocked Riddle, - Yes, sure! Like you're not dying for an opportunity to get some answers out of me!

Tom ignored the comment and went down the stairs to the Dungeons. Harry followed closely by, trapped in this fruitless discussion. They reached their faculty and entered the Common Room. Riddle walked up to an armchair right before the fireplace and gracefully took his place, stretching out his long legs.

- Alright, Harry, how about a game? Each time I answer, - Riddle pointed at himself and then moved his finger at Harry, - You answer one of my questions.

Potter carefully walked up to the fireplace and took the farthest armchair away from Riddle. He landed on it, crossing his arms on his chest, and eyed Tom suspiciously. Tom responded with a satisfied smile.

- How will I know you're not lying? - Potter grumbled.

Tom shrugged.

- Maybe, it's time we developed some trust? After all, you and I know very much about each other - much more than anyone else.

- Trust? - Harry raised his eyebrow, - You must be mental.

- Why do you have to be so difficult, Harry? - Riddle spread his arms, - I'm offering you a truce. Would you rather fight me?

He leaned in, focusing his deep eyes on Harry.

- Is that it, Harry? You enjoy fighting me?

- What?! No!

- How's your neck?

Harry's hand automatically flew up to the scar.

- Can I see? - Riddle started from the armchair.

- No! Stay where you are! - Harry jumped up from his chair, wand pointed at Riddle.

- Easy now! - Tom slowly raised his hands, - I'm not trying to hurt you. I just want to see how it's healed.

- I'm fine and I don't need your check-ups, - Potter spurted, - Please, don't touch me.

Tom watched Harry with concern, slowly lowering his hands down. Finally, he returned to his armchair, and Potter sat down as well. Riddle turned away, focused on the fire, and continued eating his damned apple, while the fingers on his other hand tapped out an elaborate rhythm on the wooden arm-pad. He finally finished eating and threw the apple core in the flames. Potter watched it shrivel and char in the fire.

- I'm sorry, Harry.

Potter switched back to Riddle, anticipating a trap.

- I had no intention of killing you - or hurting you that much, - Tom turned to Harry, his eyes looking genuinely sincere, although Harry knew he would be a fool to believe it, - I want you to feel safe around me.

Harry let out a laugh.

- I'm serious, Harry.

- Tom! Stop it! - Potter was so exasperated, he even shook his finger at Tom, as if at a misbehaving pet, - Don't you remember what I told you about my history with you?

- I remember everything.

- Then how could you ever assume I could feel safe next to the person who murdered my parents?

- I haven't done anything yet and I don't have to.

Harry couldn't sit any longer. He jumped up and started pacing the room. Could he really trust Riddle to leave his parents alive? Potter's heart thumped so hard that it resonated in his ears.

- You can't say those things, Tom.

- Why not?

- Why? I won't have you making light of this! You think I don't want my parents to be alive? Don't ever bring that up, not with me, not when you were the one to murder them in cold blood! In fact, we can't be even having this conversation, because we can't mess with this timeline!

Tom didn't answer anything, so Harry turned to look at him. Riddle was watching the flames intently.

- You know, Harry, this is all too strange. First of all, I honestly don't care about the timeline or the future you've come out of. I bring forth my own future, and as long as I'm alive and well, I don't care what happens elsewhere.

Harry shook his head in disbelief. Tom found out he would succeed in becoming a Dark Lord - he must want this future for himself. He shouldn't even listen to him claiming otherwise.

Riddle continued.

- Secondly, I don't consider you an enemy and couldn't think of a reason to kill you. Even with all your attitude, and the secrets you know – I don't consider you my rival. I'm too curious about you. I also enjoy your company.

Harry felt his ears burn.

- That said, I wonder what you and your parents must have done to justify killing them...

There it was. The reason Harry could never feel calm in Tom's presence. Of course, he wanted to know why they became enemies.

The thought emerged in Harry's head: "Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..." and he tried to chase it off, before Tom could pick up on it. He could never lead Riddle to this. This was the last bastion that had to stand.

- Back in the Chamber, after the duel with Malfoy, you told me that the Dark Wizard that killed your family had died in the process.

Harry felt petrified, desperately trying to guess how Tom's brain was working in that instant.

- But I saw in your head a memory of a man... Barely a man, more of a snake... At a graveyard. That was me, wasn't it?

Potter didn't reply, and Tom turned in his seat, looking Harry straight in the eyes.

- Wasn't it, Harry? I returned from the dead?

- Are we playing this truth or dare of yours already?

If Tom was set on getting his answers one way or another, Potter might as well do the same. Riddle got up from his seat, walked closer to Harry and leaned at the back of a sofa.

- Sure. I'll even let you go first as a sign of good will.

- Fascinating, - Harry was groping for a question that would need a long explanation, buying him time to think of a strategy, - Your hobby! Tell me about your hobby.

Riddle sniggered, and Potter couldn't help focusing on that instead of working on a strategy.

- Alright, Harry, - Tom took a deep breath, - I'm a pianist.

- What? - Potter wasn't sure he heard correctly.

- A pianist. I play the piano.

- You? The piano?

Tom watched Harry with a content grin.

- Is this how you form trust, Tom? Make a joke out of it?

- No, Harry. I enjoy music. Is that so hard to believe?

Harry pictured Voldemort fixing the flaps of his tail suit and getting down on a piano bench in front of a concert hall.

- Doesn't really sit well with your Dark Lord image.

Riddle only shrugged.

- Perhaps, if you learn to trust me, I'll play something for you. One day.

Harry shook his head, refusing to digest this new information. He didn't need more reasons to humanize his nemesis, Voldemort or Tom Riddle.

- Oh, and Harry, I must ask you not to tell anyone. I don't feel too liberal about sharing this part of my life, and if this gets out and reaches Slughorn, and he asks me to play for one of the Slug Club meetings, I will set my Basilisk on him. And the blood will be on you.

Potter's eyes widened, and Riddle sniggered again.

- Now that, Harry, was a joke. Still, don't tell anyone. It's a private part of my life.

- Sure, a pianist. Nice ring to it.

For a second Harry thought Tom looked offended, and Harry realized he himself felt guilty about it. Would he really put it beyond him to have a normal hobby? Perhaps Harry should be more sensitive and not scare away the human side that Tom had?

- I guess I would like to hear you play, Tom, - Harry tried to fix the situation.

- Sure. Whatever, - Tom mockingly answered, but it seemed he let it go. Gosh, what a drama queen, - My turn. That scar on your hand, "I must not tell lies". Tell me this story.

Phew, a normal question. Harry relaxed his shoulders and reclined in his seat.

- There was this cruel bitch of a teacher - Dolores Umbridge. I'm sure you would have liked her, and she would have adored you.

Tom frowned.

- I'm not that into cruelty.

Harry snorted.

- Cute to hear that from you, but I meant her hate for half-bloods would surely be a shared topic.

- I'm a half-blood, Harry.

- Okay, fine! - Harry threw his hands in the air, - I don't know why, but I'm sure you'd love her. She is a fantastic woman with a penchant for rules and punishment. She gave me detention for saying.., - Harry shook his head, remembering the reason for that punishment. Voldemort's return. He couldn't exactly just lay it out to Tom, could he? - For saying the truth that she didn't want to hear.

Harry crossed his arms on his chest, not willing to continue.

- What truth, Harry?

Oh, crap.

- This is another question.

- It's not, if it's connected to the scar.

Potter cursed under his breath. He really sucked at this game so far. He wanted to avoid giving Tom any more clues that might help him in the future, but then the man already knew he would return from the dead as he saw himself in Harry's head. And it didn't look like he'd leave it.

- Alright, - Harry said, - You win. Yes, Tom, you returned from the dead. And I tried warning everyone, but ended up in detention.

- Why did she punish you for this?

- Because wizards are cowards! Because the ministry is a bunch of fools, and everyone would rather hide their heads in the sand and pretend everything is fine than believe that the worst scenario possible is actually taking place!

Tom sat silently, eyeing Harry like a wildcat, while Harry cursed himself. What was he doing? Why was he telling Riddle this? But it just felt too good - letting it all out after months of keeping his identity secret. It felt exiting, so exiting to think that the future might just change for the better, the monster might be avoided, that Harry might just save his parents, and Sirius would be alive and breathing... It was mind-blowingly stupid to think about it, but too alluring all the same. Besides, he has fucked up big already, and it felt like he had little left to lose.

- What did she make you do? - Tom asked.

- Who?

- Umbridge.

- Oh, - Harry already forgot about that, - She gave me this quill and made me do lines, writing "I must not tell lies". The quill used my own blood, taking it from my hand and leaving these cuts behind. She made me do it enough to leave a scar and watched if I would complain. Didn't give her the pleasure.

Tom nodded.

- Interesting. Shows true character to stand by your word.

Was that a treacherous spark of pride caused by Tom's praise, just now? "This is baby Voldemort, this is baby Voldemort" – a little voice in Harry's head kept on, but that trick stopped working. This was too confusing for his brain to handle.

Tom got up, straightening out, and slowly approached Harry. He cautiously checked if Potter would be against him coming up too close. Harry wanted to say something to stop Riddle, but he couldn't think of anything. Tom took Harry's scarred hand, as Potter's heart pounded inside his ribcage.

- So, this scar is also connected to me. Just like that one, - Tom pointed at Harry's forehead, and his eyes slid down, focusing on Harry's neck, - And now this one too.

Harry wrested his hand out of Riddle's, closely watching his eyes, guessing frantically what comes next.

- I'm sorry I patched you up so bad. If you want, I can fix this scar.

- By cutting me up again? No thank you.

- Not necessarily cutting, I'm quite sure It won't hurt much, while it's still fresh. It's a bite mark after all, nothing magic related. Will you let me?

Harry tried to think straight, but the heat in his cheeks was very distracting. Tom must have interpreted silence as a yes, as he slowly moved to the side, reached with his hand and swatted aside a loose strand of hair, sending tickles all over Harry's scalp. Gosh, he needed a haircut. A haircut first thing in the morning, right.

Tom felt the scar tissue with his fingers, sending even more tickles and making Harry slightly shudder and pull his neck inside his shoulders.

- Don't be so nervous, Harry. I swear it's painless, at worst you'll feel a bit of cold. Trust me.

Trust him? How could he ever trust him? Harry felt trapped, his subconscious screaming while he felt paralyzed, like prey mesmerized by a predator.

Tom took out his wand and pulled the hair away from Potter's neck. A flick of a wand, a whisper, and Harry felt an icy breeze on his skin. Tom felt the scar again.

- There. All even.

Riddle stepped away, and Harry hurried to rub any memories of Tom's touch off his neck. The scar was gone.

- Th..thanks, - Harry croaked, trying to make the moment seem as less intimate as possible.

- Any time.

Tom cast Harry one of his trademark smiles and walked back to the fireplace to warm his hands. Potter completely forgot that it was terribly cold in the room.

- Questions. My turn, - he finally focused, clearing his voice, and decided it was safe enough to move closer to the source of heat. Meaning the fireplace, of course.

Harry had lots to ask about. Was Riddle gathering Death Eaters already? Why does he hate muggle borns so much? Why wouldn't he, with all his talents, get a good job and do something else? Did he really need all of this?

But something else popped out, as usual.

- Are you and Tina a thing?

Tom raised his eyes from the fire up to Harry, that cunning smile of his right back up.

- Not anymore.

- So you were! - Harry angrily stuck out his finger at Tom.

Riddle shrugged.

- Why is that question so important to you, Harry? Jealous much?

- What?! - Harry was fuming, tired of these accusations coming from everyone, - No! I could never like someone like you!

- Me? - Tom mockingly widened his eyes, - I was talking about Augustina.

Harry lost all air, as Riddle's smile grew from cunning to victorious. Fuck!

- My turn, - Riddle spoke softly, and Harry prayed he wouldn't dig deeper into the mess that Harry's feelings currently were. It looked like Harry's prayers were working, as Tom's smile slowly slid off his face, leaving behind an expressionless mask, - So, as you have said earlier, I return from the dead in the future. And that snake-like man is obviously me...

Harry closely watched Tom's face, searching for any sign of Voldemort. For a moment he thought it was there, in the eyes, but then it disappeared quick enough to leave no trace.

- Do you know how I've managed to return? - Riddle caught Potter's eyes in his hypnotizing stare, - I will know if you lie, Harry.

Potter couldn't tell this. It was one thing letting the man know he managed to fool death, but it was completely another helping him understand exactly how.

- Harry?

He knew he shouldn't have started the stupid game.

- How did I do it, Harry? What did I use?

Something in the last question caught Potter's attention. Was he trying to find out about the magic of love in Harry's veins? His mother's protection? Voldemort only solved the problem after trying to kill Harry two times before. Did he see something in Harry's head while using legilimancy?

- Harry.., - Riddle's voice was growing impatient, and Harry tensed up, checking his wand was in place.

- You said I could trust you. You said you wouldn't hurt me! - he barked at Riddle, and Tom sighed.

- Ease up, Granger! I'm not attacking you, am I? - he arched his eyebrow as if questioning Harry's sanity, - I've been answering all your questions so far.

- Oh, that you play piano for fun and date venomous bitches!

- Well, ask other things! What's stopping you? Don't you want to know what's inside the head of a man capable of becoming a Dark Lord? Not that your interest in my love affairs doesn't flatter me, of course, but, honestly speaking, it's a bit insulting that you find it more interesting than my plans on starting a great war.

Harry felt as if he was being reprimanded. He hated to admit it, but Riddle was right. Now he probably thinks of Harry as of an infantile boy with silly problems in his head.

Maybe it's a good thing. Maybe, him underestimating Harry was exactly what Potter needed.

- You had your servant do a ritual, - Harry closely watched Tom's eyes, - He used your father's bones and cut off his own hand.

- What else?

Just as Harry thought. The hand and bones were no surprise to Tom. He was searching for something else.

- You also used some... childlike version of yourself and... blood.

Tom's eyes went cold.

- A childlike version of myself? - Tom quietly asked, and Harry frowned, surprised it wasn't the blood Tom was interested in.

- Yes.

Tom blinked, focusing on any hidden reactions in Harry's face, but there weren't any. Potter had no idea why that disgusting baby form was more interesting to Tom than the protection that got Voldemort killed in the first place.

- Alright. Your turn, Harry.

Weird. That baby. It was another secret. Harry had finally gotten onto something. Perhaps, he was intuitively choosing the right strategy.

- How can you be a half-blood and hate muggles? I get the part about growing up in a muggle orphanage and witnessing a muggle war, but...

- Witnessing is not the word for it, Harry. I was in the middle of it.

- Yes, but what do muggle issues have to do with half-bloods and muggle borns? They're at the base of your ideology, the reason you started a war, it's not just muggle hate. How can you be against purebloods mixing with muggle-borns, although you yourself are the result of such union?

Tom moved a bit closer to Harry, the tongues of fire lighting his face from different angles.

- You've picked the worst time to ask this question, Harry.

- What? Why?

- Because I'm not as sure I want to start any war anymore. I'm growing indifferent.

Harry wasn't ready to hear those words so soon.

- But... You can't...

- I don't want to become that man I saw in your head, - Tom interfered, - It's as if knowing my plans can actually come true makes me think... What if I can achieve greater things? Something else entirely? This can't be my only achievement, can it?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Greater things? Other things? Harry's heart was leaping out of his chest.

- What greater things?

Tom frowned and shrugged.

- I don't know yet.

- Well, are they terrible things?

Riddle smiled as if the question was stupid.

- Harry, - he said, talking to him as if he was a pre-school teacher explaining sums, - Surely you understand that dark magic is the most powerful magic that exists? And is only labeled dark because wizards and witches are too afraid to properly study it?

- Does that mean "yes"? - Potter felt his skin crawl. What has he done!

- I don't know, Harry, depends on the things you consider terrible. Will somebody die? Probably. That's the rules of life.

- Wait, wait, wait, Tom, you have to reconsider. You can't... You can't just...

- Harry, relax. I'm not doing anything certain yet. Who knows? Maybe I'll find a purpose that doesn't need any more human sacrifices.

Harry dropped in the armchair behind him. Tom sighed and gave a long stretch, as if the universe was not spinning out of control this instant.

- Would you look at the time... It's practically my birthday, - Riddle rubbed his hands together, staring at the old grandfather clock in the corner of the room, and stepped away from the fire. He walked in the direction of the dormitory corridor, his voice sounding more distant as he walked away, - I've got a great idea! How about you and I celebrate? I never do, also I never drink, but now that you're here with me, I'm even ready to open up a bottle of wine Lucas has got hidden under the bed. Are you with me?

Tom watched as Harry kept staring at the fireplace. What did he expect? You fall backwards several years in time and expect things to happen in the exact same fashion? That is no way possible, and Dumbledore knew it too. The man was probably getting something for himself out of the whole situation, using Harry as his pawn.

Tom walked back to the armchair and put his hands on Granger's shoulders, amused by how the boy shuddered from the touch, but also wishing he would stop reacting this way to him.

- Harry, are you with me? Let's celebrate! It's the first time I actually want to.

Granger turned his confused face to him.

- Why?

That was a good question. Why did he suddenly feel so good? Maybe because Harry had no idea about his horcruxes, judging by his answers? Tom wasn't completely sure yet, but his secret did seem only his for now.

Maybe because Tom was starting to get a clearer vision of his future after all these days? He could be anything he wanted - he knew that much at this point.

Maybe because they were finally talking to each other, alone? Sure, it wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing.

Or maybe because all signs pointed at Harry developing a hopeless crush on him, no matter what, and it was the first time that someone's affection felt exciting?

- You have liberated me in a sense, I guess I wanted to say thank you.

Harry kept staring at him stupidly.

- Oh, come on, Granger, cheer up! - Tom walked to the front of Harry's chair, grabbed Harry's hands and pulled him up, paying no attention to Harry's meek protests, - Here's the deal. Best one you'll ever get from me. I'll be open about my plans to you and you only, as long as you keep your mouth shut, of course. If something worries you, you tell me. I might not care for your opinion, but I promise to be open to discussion, if you don't attack me or do something stupid like you always do. In exchange for the same from you.

- What?

- We can be friends.

- Friends?

- Yes.

- You want me to become one of your Death Eaters?

Riddle dropped his hands, annoyed.

- No, Harry. Just a friend.

Harry seemed just as lost as before, so Tom grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him away from the fireplace in the direction of their dormitory.

- Come on, I'm sure a glass or two will brighten your mood.

Tom turned, and pulled Harry all the way up to the dormitory, not giving him a chance to flee. He opened the door, lit the room, pulled off his school robe and threw it on Avery's bed, then helped Harry, still stiff and shocked, get out of his.

Harry had a thin frame. Not that he was skinny or anything, but his body looked as if it was set on keeping its boyish features, both in the face and body, never growing into something as manly as Luke's, or even Tom's. That said, he did not look wipmy, which was expectable if one considered all the hours he put into Quidditch.

Riddle blinked, forcing himself to look away, and summoned the bottle of wine from under the bed. He pulled out the cork with a flick of the wand.

Tom turned back to Harry and found him examining him intently.

- Will you conjure up the glasses? - Riddle asked, trying to shake the boy out of it.

Harry just kept staring at him.

- Or, if you don't want glasses, we can drink it straight out of the bottle, - Tom shrugged sarcastically, watching Harry give in and pull out his wand.

Harry gave a flick, mumbled the words and created two glasses that certainly weren't suitable for wine drinking, but Tom decided to let it pass. He poured half a glass each, then took his from the air and waited for Harry to take his, as he slowly did.

- Bottoms up! - Tom raised his glass.

- Are you trying to poison me?

It took a lot of energy not to be annoyed with the constant suspicion, but Tom managed to shrug it off. He drank from his glass, took Harry's, drank from it too and handed Harry his glass back.

- No, as you see.

Riddle clanked his glass with Harry's and watched the boy take a small sip.

- I think it's my turn to ask you a question now. Perhaps, something not connected to all your time travel mess to keep you off your gloomy mood.

- My mess?

- Well! I'm not the one from nineteen ninety-six here, - Tom watched with amusement some of Harry's frustration return, - Tell me, Harry, have you ever dated anyone?

Harry choked on his wine, as on cue.

- Uhm... Well, a bit, - Harry croaked, drying his face with his sleeve from drops of spilled wine.

- A bit?

- It didn't go well.

- Because you tend to choke at all the wrong moments?

- Ha-ha, - Harry said, making a face, - No, because she betrayed me and my friends.

- So, it's a "she"...

- What, you were hoping for a "he"?

Was that flirting?

- Was there a "he" in mind?

Harry went brick red, and Tom could almost hear the bells of joy ringing in the back of his mind.

- I think it's my turn to ask a question, - Harry replied dully.

- Sure.

Tom sat on his bed. Harry slowly sat down on his own bed, opposite of Tom.

- So, does what you said back in the Common Room mean you don't hate muggles and muggle-borns anymore?

Tom surely shook Harry's world with his announcement of change of plans.

- I wouldn't say I ever hated anyone. Besides Dumbledore, of course, but it's more scorn than hate. And it's the same about half bloods or purebloods, I despise most of them just as well.

- But then why would you form your ideology on the concept of pure blood?

It was almost scary how much Granger actually knew. Voldemort must have been quite the celebrity in Harry's time.

- Ideology is just a tool, Harry. A tool for the masses. A wise man runs the other way as soon as he hears a passionate call to change, because he knows that regimes are undone by ideas, and by talented speakers spreading them.

- Alright, but why not make an ideology of something else? Half bloods, for instance, like you and me.

- That would have been a very weak ideology. I could technically go the other way and form an ideology that would cater for the muggle borns. That would be a strong one too, as there are many muggle born witches and wizards, and my army would be quite impressive. But purebloods have other resources I find interesting: connections, artifacts and money. And you could do a lot more with those.

Tom took a sip of wine, and Harry did the same.

- My turn, - Tom stood up and walked up to Harry, landing next to him on his bed and leaving no space to move away, - So, you've just said you are a half blood. That's the first I've heard of it. I had this idea after you mentioned how you were fostered by muggles, but that might have also meant you were completely muggle born. Now, Granger is not a pureblood family name, so it was either your mother who was pureblood, or you are hiding your real name. Which is it?

Harry cast a gloomy look at Tom.

- Granger is not my real last name, but I would prefer to keep my real name a secret.

- What if I accidentally kill your grandparents then?

- Tom! - Riddle was sure he saw the hair on Harry's head stand up, although it made little difference, always being a general mess.

- What? I'm only asking to make sure to keep them alive, Harry.

- You just said you will avoid killing people!

- I didn't make a promise, and things often get out of hand, especially around you. I have a feeling your father or grandfather might be just as emotional. Or is it your granny? - Tom squinted in false suspicion, but Harry kept silent. - Fine, keep it a secret for now. But you will have to tell me sooner or later, you do understand that? Your turn.

Harry gulped at his wine, frowning, while Tom wondered if he was becoming too soft with Granger, or whatever his real name was.

- Why do you hate Dumbledore so much? Because he's stronger than you? - Harry finally asked.

- Currently there are many wizards possibly stronger than me, and it will stay that way if I don't study dark arts deeper. That is something I'm certain to continue doing, and I would advise you do the same, - Harry tried to protest, but Tom shushed him, - As for Dumbledore... Let's just say we started off on a very wrong note.

- I'm going to need more information than that if we're building trust here.

- Fair enough, - Tom took another sip of wine, feeling it slowly get to his head, - Imagine a strange looking man enter your room in the orphanage. In the same orphanage that decided you are possessed by a devil that needs driving out, tied you to your bed, starved you for days and yelled religious scripts at you, sprinkling you with holy water until it drove you mad. And then, later, they bring in this weird man, leave you alone with him, he uses legilimancy to creep inside your head, finds out all your embarrassing secrets, and then sets your wardrobe with all your belongings on fire. I was terrified of him.

Tom glanced at Harry. He was frowning at his glass.

- At school he always suspected me of stealing, or hurting other kids. Sure, the orphanage matrons told him stories of how I taught other kids lessons on how to treat me. Yes, I've done that as a child. I was surviving in an orphanage, for God's sake! But Dumbledore never gave me a chance to start over. His suspicions were insulting, and that is when you are just some no-one in a wizarding school - this whole other world with children prepared for it since the very beginning -, and in none other House than Slytherin. Sure, I wanted to end up here as soon as I learned about Hogwarts, but you can still imagine what did pureblood offspring make of me. So, I had plenty of things to be embarrassed of, without Dumbledore's hand in it.

Tom paused, getting another sip. More of a gulp than a sip, as his movement and speech grew sluggish by the second under the influence of wine, and the words kept pouring out.

- And it never stopped. Last year I decided to check if he might start treating me differently if I built a special strategy on how to communicate with him. You know that story, I told it to you before. He did open up a bit, told me about his bond with Grindewald and how I reminded him of his friend.

Riddle snorted and took more wine.

- You know, Harry, honestly, at the moment he compared me with Grindewald I thought he might try to get in my pants.

- WHAT?!

It was always amusing to see the kid lose his marbles, and Tom leaned back and treated himself to a proper laugh. A bit too hysterical than he wanted.

- Yes, so I'm glad I messed it all up by this whole Myrtle business...

- Oh, so now you'll say you killed the girl just to keep Dumbledore away from your pants?

- Don't be silly, Harry. I killed Myrtle because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, also happening to be a weak link no one would miss. Everything else is just a very fortunate coincidence...

Harry blinked twice, watching Riddle, and then gulped down the rest of the wine in his glass. He slammed the glass on the side table.

- Tom... You can't just go and kill people like that.

- I had to test my Basilisk, Harry.

- Well, test it in other ways, Tom! Not on people!

- I'm more fond of animals than people, if that's what you're getting at.

Harry leaned in and punched Tom in the chest. Cute. Usually Tom did all the touching.

- I meant (punch) avoid (punch) the killing (punch) in general (punch), Tom (hard punch).

- Avoiding anything.., - Tom caught Harry's fist and cupped it with his hand, - ...is limiting yourself, and limits stand in the way of progress.

- Progressing within limits makes you even stronger, don't you think?

Riddle quickly studied Harry's concerned face. The boy took on the mission Tom ever so gently put into his head: a mission to help him avoid becoming a monster. Oh, Harry. Don't you understand there is a way to manipulate anyone?

- Yes. That is a wise thought. I'll think about it, Harry.

Tom finished his glass of wine and summoned the half-empty bottle to pour some more into his and Harry's glasses. Potter saw how drunk he was getting by the movement that became more careless, the words that poured without pausing, and was partly fascinated to witness it all. Tom handed Harry his glass, placed his own on the side table and started unlacing his shoes. Harry froze just at the thought he might get naked again like the time he asked Ed to do his laundry.

- Uhm... Tom?

Riddle pulled off one shoe and the sock after it and moved to his other foot.

- Yes?

- What are you doing?

- I'm trying to free my body from everything binding it. It's been a long day. Maybe you should take something off too.

He pulled of his second shoe and sock and moved to his belt.

- God, please don't take your pants off!

- Don't pretend you don't wish I will.

Tom pulled his belt out and threw it on the floor then grinned at Harry. He climbed back on Harry's bed, crossed his legs and leaned back, that grin spread all over his face. Oh god, was this teasing or flirting? Or both? Was Tom interested in him... in that way?

Harry felt all his restrained feelings blow up inside, causing his fingers and toes to go numb. Everything came breaking out: his half-forgotten feelings for Diary-Tom, the ones that were building up until Diary-Tom destroyed everything good he felt for him; the pity he felt when Tom told of the hardships he had to face as an orphan, alone, unloved and demonized by people surrounding him; the jealousy he felt when he thought of Tom and Tina, or Tom and Rosier - he understood now that the anger in fact was nothing, but a burning jealousy; all the aching excitement Harry felt when Tom touched him, and, most of all, when he sank his teeth into Harry's neck, his lips on the wound, his breath, his tongue.

Harry's eyes slid up and down Tom, without any timidity, taking him all in from his deep dark eyes down his strong chest, his long legs and his bare pale aristocratic feet. Riddle kept grinning as if he knew everything Harry was thinking about. Tom leaned in, moving closer to Harry, causing another rush of feelings as Harry was sure Tom glanced at his lips... But then he paused.

- My turn, - Riddle murmured, and then his face got serious again, helping Harry switch as well, - The Chamber of Secrets. How did you find out it was I who opened it?

Tom was hungrily watching his reaction. Even through all the wine Harry could see how Riddle changed as soon as the dreaded Chamber was mentioned: pupils wide and black, every muscle tense. It's as if he was ready to leap and rip Harry to pieces.

- Well, the attacks started again, - Harry wisely chose his words, - And we had to stop it.

- We? - Tom more of demanded, than asked.

- Me and my friends.

- Oh, so Dumbledore sat and watched, letting school children do the job? - Tom's voice was full of venom, but this time Harry could interfere.

- No! He was suspended by one of your influential bastards!

- Suspended? - Riddle gave a laugh, - So, he left? Knowing exactly how dangerous it was? What a hero!

Harry didn't know what to say. Now that he thought about it, knowing how nothing stopped him from getting hands dirty saving the school each time, Dumbledore just leaving did seem weird.

- You didn't answer my question, Harry. How did you find out I was the Heir of Slytherin?

Harry quickly calculated his risks. His eyes jumped to Riddle's school bag, where he last saw something that looked very much like the Diary.

Riddle must have seen Potter's eyes move, as he stood up, walked up to his school bag, took out that black journal and threw it next to Harry.

- Is this object familiar to you, Harry?

Harry's heart was pounding. He saw the letters engraved into the black material. There was no denying it was that thing.

- Yes, it is, Tom. This thing projected you. You were standing there, real, like you are now. Maybe just a bit transparent, but you were getting solid by the minute, - Harry carefully eyed the journal again, - Is it like that now? This diary? Cursed?

Tom picked up the journal, leafed it through, giving Harry a glimpse of writings on the pages, and put it away.

- No, it's just a journal.

Could Harry trust that? Perhaps, opening the Chamber again in the future was only an idea at the moment, and he could prevent it from happening completely. He gulped on his wine, washing away the taste of adrenaline from his mouth. Could he ever feel calm next to this man?

Tom picked up his glass and climbed back onto Harry's bed, even closer this time, his back leaned on the bed-head and his bent knee inches away from Harry. Potter watched him silently drink, comfortably resting on his bed, and then decided to follow his example. He took off his shoes and socks, cursing at his bruised nails from harsh broom landings, but decided not to give a damn and stay barefoot anyways. Might as well ward off any of Tom's advances.

Harry climbed next to Tom, noticing his satisfied look, which strangely lifted Harry's self-esteem.

- Consider this your birthday present.

- Consider what?

- Me not running the other way from you.

- I don't think you ever would have, Harry. It's not like you to be cowardly.

- However, I would have gladly avoided all of this mess.

- You would prefer me to be Voldemort?

Harry sat silently. No, he wouldn't. It was foolish to lie to himself. The changing future scared him, but anything was better than the pain the war cost.

- I think it's my turn to ask questions, - he finally said.

- Sure, Harry.

- When did you start planning your war? And what is the goal? Overthrowing the government? Spreading chaos and terror?

- Building a new world. Setting wizards on wizards, people on people until natural selection cleans the planet, leaving the strongest to survive. Changing the rules that suffocate everything great.

- That doesn't exactly look like what you did back in my time.

Tom turned to him.

- No? What did it look like?

- Like a band of murderous lunatics that cause everyone to tremble from the sound of your name.

- That's quite sad.

- Yes, it is.

- I guess, great ideas never turn out as good as you've planned them.

- They'd call you "You-Know-Who" or "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named".

Tom cracked up, spilling a bit of wine on his pants.

- What a bunch of losers. If my name is enough to terrify wizards... do you understand the depth of the problem we're facing, Harry?

- The problem with everyone being cowards?

- The problem with cowards ruling the world.

- There's nothing to do about it, Tom.

- Maybe you are right, Harry.

Potter felt warmth spreading in his chest. Tom agreeing to Harry's arguments seemed like a breakthrough. Could he really change the world for the better just by being friends with this man?

- So what made you start planning your war? - he asked Tom, taking another gulp of wine as if it was grape juice.

- Malfoy.

- What?! – Harry's eyes bulged.

- Abraxas Malfoy.

- That snobbish piece of shit?

Tom frowned.

- It does seem like a lousy reason when you put it that way.

- What did he do to you?

Tom finished his glass and reached over Harry to pour himself another one. Harry tried not to breathe as Tom's body was hanging over him.

- There goes the bottle, - Riddle announced and summoned another one from under Avery's bead.

- Does he have a pub under there? - Harry laughed, trying to ignore Tom's hand as it landed on his chest in an attempt to catch balance.

- I'd rather not discuss what things have been under Luke's bed. Or on top of it, for that matter.

- Ew. Is he really that slutty?

- He's been mad about girls since the day we were sorted into Slytherin.

- And you? - Harry couldn't help himself, - You and Tina? When did this happen?

Tom finally pulled away, holding a new full glass and leaving Harry's chest uncomfortably cold.

- Shortly after Malfoy became completely unbearable.

- So, it was all just to get back at him? - Harry felt uplifted, until the next words came out of Riddle's mouth.

- Well, not just to get back at him. Augustina is a stunning girl.

Jealousy made Harry tense up, and he sat up, moving away from Riddle and making him laugh.

- But it did feel very good to fuck his fiancé.

- You did WHAT?!

Harry jumped off the bed and stepped away, tripping on the shoes thrown around. Riddle snorted.

- What did you think we were doing?

- I don't know! Kissing, squeezing in corners!

- I never do things halfway, Harry.

- You are still at school!

That set Tom laughing out loud. He buried his face in the covers slamming the mattress with his fist. When he finished and pulled away Harry was sure he saw tears in the corners of his eyes.

- So, you are that much of a virgin, aren't you, Harry?

- Oh, you know what! - Harry's face was burning, - I never had time to shag girls fighting you all my life!

Tom climbed off the bed, stumbling, which was very ungraceful comparing to the way he usually held himself.

- Why do you fight me all your life, Harry? Why are all your scars connected to me? Why did I murder your parents and try to murder you? So many questions... You must be my destiny.

All the flirtatious charm was gone from Riddle's face, his eyes were back to black and eating Harry up. He looked practically insane.

- I've been trying to understand this all my life. I don't want us to be enemies, Tom, - Harry braved himself, walked back up to Riddle and placed his hands on his shoulders, watching carefully the beastly hunger in his eyes, - If I learned anything from the way you took the truth is that you and I can fool this destiny we have. You said it yourself. Fuck the future. I'm ready for another future, something you and I can build that would work best for us. I'm with you on that.

Perhaps it was the alcohol pushing the right words out, or Harry finally had the courage to accept his changing future, but it worked. Tom relaxed in the shoulders, his eyes softened and he put his hands on top of Harry's arms.

- Of course. That's what I want. Not to be enemies, - he finally said, - I've never felt so close to anyone in all my life. I'm glad you fell from nineteen ninety-six.

And then something Harry never expected happened. Tom leaned in and hugged Harry, pulling Harry a bit up, closer to his height and making him stand on his toes. Tom's scent filled Harry's head, and that alone would have made him drunk without any wine. Harry had to admit it felt perfect being squeezed in his arms instead of fighting him. Perfect and incredibly valuable, like the affection of a beast finally tamed.

Author's note.

I'm sorry it took me ages to publish this! I just hope this huge and fun chapter brightens everyone's mood :) I passed a very dark time this first half of the year, as I'm sure many of you did. The pandemic and all the shit in the world really got to me.

But! More good stuff is coming up and is already written, just needs proper editing. And...we'll be rounding up :)

Grateful for every review and follow - you perfect people inspire me :)

To my Editor In Chief: thank you, brother.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.