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Tom was burning up and Harry couldn't understand what he could do to make it all better. He tried placing wet rags on his forehead to bring down his temperature. He'd tried feeding him water. He'd done everything he could possibly think of but nothing had worked. The occasional spasms accompanied by agonizing moans and whimpers just drove him to tears.

He was fairly certain that Tom was fighting against Dumbledore's influence and he wanted to help…he wanted to know how he could help and make it easier for Tom. He just couldn't bear to see him in this state.

Another darker thought just consumed his mind. What if Tom lost? What if Dumbledore regained complete control of him? What would happen then? If he had a shred of self-preservation, then he would probably run away. But he wouldn't run away. He wasn't going to leave Tom alone. He wasn't afraid of what Voldemort slash Dumbledore would do to him…What would he do to him? The way he'd been eyed earlier, he would assume that he was going to be violated in the most painful of ways and then Dumbledore would probably kill him…Or he might decide to let him live and keep him as his sex slave.

His own calmness about his possibly dark and bleak future bothered him but he was fine with it. He was fine with everything because he was with Tom. Tom's head was resting in his lap and he leaned over and pressed a kiss to his sweat damp forehead,

"Tom…just stay strong. If you lose then we both lose."

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath and smoothed his thumb over Tom's forehead. He was in pain again and soon enough the spasms started again and Harry held on to him as tight as he could and Tom cried and whimpered in his chest. He made sure that he kept speaking words of encouragement to him and told him exactly how much he loved him with every breath he took.

Tom's lipless mouth was twisted in a grimace and he traced it with his finger before kissing him. He kept lips pressed to his as he held him tight and kept talking to him…He wasn't even sure, Tom was listening to him but he needed to do it. He needed to keep talking because it was all he could do. He was hoping that it would be enough to help Tom in his fight against Dumbledore.

For a moment, he'd contemplated getting Bellatrix and Fenrir here so that they could help him but he couldn't risk their lives as well if things went south. Dumbledore was vicious, vile and cruel and he couldn't put Bellatrix and Fenrir in danger.

Tom had relaxed once again and Harry closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath before leaning back against the headboard. His own exhaustion finally caught up to him and he fell asleep once again.

He woke up to Tom's screams and instantly sat up straight. Tom was thrashing on the bed, his nails were digging into the mattress, and every inch of his body was taut with pain. He wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tight,

"Tom…I love you…I love you…Please, wake up."

But nothing about Tom's condition changed and Harry wished he could take his pain upon himself. He was willing to do anything to save him.

It was a while later that Tom went still again and Harry just stared at his face…it almost looked human…the snakelike resemblance had been reduced to a bare minimum. He traced his finger over Tom's flat nose and then his hollow cheekbones and then his lipless mouth. He was hoping it would all change... He wanted Tom to look like Tom...the handsome young man he'd seen in that memory…

Reluctantly, he got out of bed and went to the bathroom to relieve himself. He was washing his hands when he caught his reflection in the mirror. For a moment, he couldn't recognize himself. His raven black hair was all mussed up and sticking on their ends. His eyes were surrounded by dark circles and swollen red by all the tears he'd been shedding. He looked as pale as a ghost. He almost thought he was a ghost.

He splashed cold water over his face and then drew in a deep breath. It was going to fine. It had to be fine. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the tiled wall. He decided that he needed a cold bath and made his way to the tub. Filling it half way up, he threw every bath salt he could get his hands on and tossed it in the tub before getting in himself. The cold water made him shiver involuntarily but his body quickly grew accustomed to it and soon enough he found himself relaxing.

The scented salts just put him in a daze and he felt utterly and truly lost. It wrapped around his body, dragging him into hazy oblivion and he fought it. He cursed his own stupidity for throwing in all the bath salts and forced himself to his feet. He didn't want to fall asleep in the bath. Tom was all alone in bed. He needed to be there for him.

He grabbed the towel and dried himself off thoroughly before pulling on his clothes and stepping out of the bathroom. He came to a sudden halt when he realized that the bed was vacant. He looked around the room, searching for him. The door was still closed. He would have heard Tom open it if Tom had walked out through there. His heart was beating at a million miles per second and he felt like he couldn't breathe. Where could Tom have gone to? He tried to feel for his soul…that suffocating darkness…something…anything…But there was nothing.

He was just about to rush out of the room to go look for him when an arm wrapped around his waist and he gasped loudly as he felt the huge snake coil tight around his chest and squeeze asphyxiatingly. Warm breath tickled his ear and then he heard Tom's…no…Voldemort's high-pitched voice whisper in his ear,

"You should have run when you had the chance."