Two weeks into the beginning of term, Harry found himself sitting with the Death Eaters in the room mostly referred to as "The Headquarters". He sat quietly, reading a series of newspapers embedded in an ancient volume as the other Slytherins talked around him. However, his interest in the article within his hands – telling humours of the war led by Grindelwald – was faltering as he listened on and off to what the Death Eaters talked about.

He didn't join in their conversation, for he was not oblivious to the fact that the Death Eaters cast him curious glances each time the Dart Arts classes themselves were mentioned. Harry had been missing most of the private lessons for a fortnight now, and he wasn't truly sure if he wanted to get out of that habit. Even when it gave him a bad reputation amongst his fellow Slytherins, he was quite content with not being here. It was only after quite a bit of struggle in blocking off thoughts that Harry could manage walking into another one of Riddle's meetings, and in his opinion the effort was not at all worth the pay. He still hated the Dark Arts as much as he always had.

Riddle sat on the end of the table made of shining black marble, rather far away from Harry, as usual. He was busy occupying himself by watching and listening to his Death Eaters, occasionally joining in conversation, but mostly seeing the talk progress. His Death Eaters were all very good in the Dark Arts, Harry knew, and wondered whether or not Riddle was satisfied with what he had been able to teach them all so far. After a moment of dwelling upon this thought, however, Harry decided to stay away from the subject of Tom. He distracted himself with the Death Eater's talk instead.

"I still ain't trusting you on this one," Avery replied to something another had said.

"Come on, Fiendfyre is the perfect way to get rid of Muggles," Mulciber stated, as if this were some sort of obvious fact to a perfect plan. "They wouldn't be able to stop it. Even Wizards have trouble with it sometimes."

"Sometimes?" Avery asked, bewildered. "Wizards have trouble with it all the time! That's why it's banned. If you let that loose on a whole group of Muggles, it'd end up getting back at Wizards in no time, mate!"

"But it'd kill them alright," Mulciber stated defensively.

"You suggest this idea as if you're able to perform the spell properly," Lestrange's drawling voice called from across the table, aimed towards Mulciber. "I don't think the day of you causing a fire to burn down an entire Muggle city will come any time soon. I'd be surprised if you could even cause a house fire – and we all know that would only succeed with you handling a packet of Muggle matches and a bottle of oil."

"Shut up," Mulciber retorted, becoming embarrassed as the Death Eaters broke out in laughter.

"But we did only learn that spell this year, to be fair," Nott added.

"Which means it's going to be another seven years before he learns how to perform it," Avery taunted with a smile.

"Ten years, if you ask me," Dolohov added.

"Hark who's talking!" Avery exclaimed.

"What?" Dolohov asked.

"Well, you ain't any better than Mulciber is at the Dark Arts."

"Yeah I am!" Dolohov said with complete confidence.

"They're both the same," Lestrange stated in a bored tone.

"Nah, mate, Mulciber's our Imperius Curse specialist, so he's way better than Dolohov," Avery reminded him.

"That ain't fair!" Dolohov complained, "I've learnt loads of stuff!"

"You're not of any real use though," Nott remarked.

"Oh, come on! Why you defending Mulciber now? You were making fun of him only a minute ago!"

"He may not be able to start Fiendfyre, but he at least knows a few things." Nott was smiling along with the Death Eaters, apparently enjoying this chance to tease Dolohov.

"You're all assholes, you know that?" Dolohov said, "and Hippogriffs!"

"Hippogriffs?"

"I think he means 'hypocrites'," Lestrange observed. The other Death Eaters laughed more at this.

"Oi, what time is it now?" Avery asked when the laughter died down. "We must have been here for hours already."

"It's nearly eleven," Nott said, checking his watch. He turned to the head of the table to face Riddle. "Should we go back to the Common Room?"

Riddle looked up, having been submerged in thought vaguely before this. "If you wish."

"Good. I have to finish that Potions essay…" Nott replied, talking more to himself than anyone else as he stood up. The other Death Eaters soon followed him, along with Harry. The latter was just turning to leave the room, when he heard a voice call his name. It was Riddle, who had remained seated.

"Not you, Jonathan. I wish to speak with you."

A few of the Death Eaters also turned when they heard these words. Harry, who was both annoyed and nervous, caught Avery, who stood in front of him, wearing an expression that said 'I told you so'. Harry knew this was referring to their conversation of Riddle's revenge, and it didn't help. The Death Eaters slowly began walking from the room again, while Harry remained standing where he was.

The last Death Eater to leave closed the door firmly behind him. This left the room awfully quiet, as Harry remained as impassive as he could under Riddle's stare.

"Come here," Riddle said, standing up.

Harry hesitated, before slowly making his way towards the other boy. He stopped at around two meters away. "Yeah?"

"I have something for you," Riddle explained, watching Harry's expression before smiling faintly, "and it isn't any form of revenge for a nonexistent crime, as Avery seems to think."

Harry was relieved, though confused with this. He wondered what else Riddle could have for him, and he was still cautious with the idea that the older boy could be lying. But Tom only held out his hand. When Harry looked down, he saw Marvolo's gold and black ring resting in Tom's palm. He stared at it for a moment, bewildered, before looking up again.

Riddle read his confused expression simply, seeing he needed to confirm that this was indeed a gift. "Take it," he said.

Harry looked down at the ring again, frozen. This was the Resurrection stone… and was also very likely to be a Horcrux. Why on earth would Riddle ever want to give this ring to Harry? It was supposed to be sacred to him, one of many items to ensure immortality, and he was just handing it away. It seemed a rather careless action, especially for someone like Riddle. "Why are you giving me this?" Harry asked.

"You seem rather distant," Tom explained. "Thus easily inclined to not join in meetings with my friends and I."

"You're giving me this ring because I ditched Dark Arts meetings? That doesn't seem very logical."

"I'd rather avoid a larger scene. My friends – as I'm not blind to notice – feel your absence is rather eerie, and I wouldn't want them to begin thinking that you are some exception to the rule that my group of friends never declines in numbers… only increases."

"So this is just to force me into being one of your followers forever then?" Harry said angrily, glaring up at Tom.

"You're a useful student," Tom replied calmly, ignoring the rest of what Harry suggested, "and rather powerful in the Dark Arts. Not only does it draw unwanted attention when I apparently allow you to continue missing these meetings, but my friends are already rather curious to know what has changed over the last few weeks, and their curiosity is not something that can be settled easily. I am sure you have seen all of this in their minds, as I have. They already expect me to yell at you at the very least for attempting separation from my group, but I don't believe that is necessary here… So this is my alternative option."

"What for? So I feel guilty enough with this to never want to go away, so I owe you something?" Harry wasn't sure why this annoyed him so much; all he knew was that he hated the idea of being bribed against his own free will. "I'm not going to take this just so you don't have to worry about what your followers think."

Riddle was silent for a minute, letting Harry's tone of anger hang in the air as he thought. "No," he replied delicately. "I merely thought this might ease some of what is distracting you."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, unconvinced.

"Yes. This ring is – as I have taken from your previous explanations – a way to bring back everyone that you have lost… I thought it might help you to concentrate if it was in your possession, so you can use it at will."

These words surprised Harry, who fell into a stunned silence. That thought hadn't occurred to him in the slightest. He had been too concerned with the chance of revenge to contemplate what use the ring in itself was to him. Tom was giving it to him because he knew how much Harry dwelt upon the memories of his friends. He was actually taking Harry's adversity into consideration. Harry was bewildered that Tom would do something so considerate merely because he didn't want Harry to go away, as a Death Eater. It made Harry feel sorrowful, somehow, that he expected only the worst in the other boy. He wasn't sure why this struck him so suddenly. It should have been obvious.

Tom was giving him the only portal on this earth that Harry knew of to the world of the dead. He was… almost repaying the deaths that he would one day commit. This was all Harry could see it as he looked at the ring now, his lungs oddly compressed in desolation. What else would Harry have as a reason to hate the other boy now, if the murders he had suffered through were taken out of consideration? Tom had never actually done anything cruel to Harry, when not counting the future. Tom was taking back his murders with giving Harry this ring. It was a token of forgiveness for a crime not yet committed.

Harry wondered how Tom could possibly allow a Horcrux of his to be given away so simply… before he remembered something. Voldemort had given more than one Horcrux to his followers. Both Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy had been deemed loyal enough to hold Hufflepuff's Cup and the Diary. Perhaps Harry's lie about Grindelwald making the ring had put Tom off the idea of it, and he was handing it to Harry now because he was supposed to have connections with Gellert. Harry could easily imagine the disappointment the other boy felt when he discovered that his precious ring, stolen with such care, wasn't actually an item from the great Salazar Slytherin himself. It made sense.

As a Deathly Hallow, this was also a weapon that could one day be used in bringing down Voldemort… but Harry wasn't in any fit state to contemplate how he felt about this now. The silence was still ongoing, but Harry couldn't think of what he wanted to do or say yet. It was a few more moments before Riddle spoke.

"Take it," he said again.

Harry met Tom's eyes once more, but he didn't want to do anything past this. His mind was still trying to work out everything about this situation. Tom soon decided to merely push the object on Harry. Harry was somehow surprised with the echoes of Tom's touch again, as the taller boy clasped Harry's hands around the ring with his own… yet Tom was quick to retract his hands.

"I can't accept this," Harry managed after a moment, feeling somehow empty as he stood apart from Tom again. "I… I have nothing to give you."

"Assurance of you returning to my meetings as often as any of my other friends will be a fine enough repayment."

But Harry didn't feel like this was enough. He looked at the ring in his hands again. It was awfully cold, which made him think about Slytherin's Locket somewhere in the back of his minds yet he could barely feel this as he became submerged in deep thought. He felt as though this was a truce to the war Riddle never knew actually existed, and would exist. Harry held the lives (or rather, deaths) of everyone he had never known within his hands. He felt a great sadness fill him with the thought of perhaps seeing his friends once again. He looked up at Tom, not knowing how he could express his gratitude.

Harry examined Tom's handsome face and tried to think, yet something seemed to be preventing him from deciding upon a reply to all of this. Tom was watching him, his dark grey eyes traveling carefully over his features as the silence carried on. Harry had no more reason to hate the other boy as determinedly as he had for the last few weeks and before, but he had no way of telling Riddle just what this meant to him, and how it made him feel. Tom examined him carefully, his eyes as impassive as Harry had always known them from this far away…

Before Harry could remember making the decision, he stepped forward, and began kissing Riddle. His whole body became a storm of emotion the second his lips came in contact with Tom's once again, and he was utterly disoriented when he felt Tom kissing him back just as passionately as he could hope, if not more due to the surprise and excitement from the sudden impulse. Harry had wanted this for weeks on end, no matter how much he had tried to deny the idea when it resurfaced in his mind, and he could barely believe that this was happening again. He wanted nothing more than to have Riddle this close to him forever, his every touch making Harry's craving deepen at an alarming rate.

Harry's hands were running through Tom's hair, as Tom's hands slid along Harry's waist, and up his back, pulling Harry closer to him. Harry could feel Tom's breath rough against his own as their kiss deepened, their tongues interweaving with each other as their minds became clouded. This kiss was perhaps even more powerful than the last one had been. Harry could feel Tom's body so close to his own in their fervent embrace, and though there did come a time when neither boy could take the lack of air and overdose of desire, Harry and Tom only pulled away as much as strictly necessary. They rested with their foreheads placed together, panting for breath.

Harry wasn't sure how much time passed before they parted; yet it felt like forever or, perhaps, no time at all to him. He didn't really want to think about what kissing Tom again really meant, and how he was going to keep this up for the future. All Harry really wanted to do was kiss Tom again, and for the rest of the night, then decide upon his life afterwards. He wanted to stay here forever, in Tom's arms, and never go away. But before he could even catch his breath back, Riddle spoke.

"Tell me you won't walk away again this time," he said in little over a whisper. Harry could feel Tom protectively holding him, his eyes closed, as Harry's were. "All you ever do is walk away…"

Harry knew these words were true, and he suddenly felt slightly bad because of it. "I won't this time," he replied honestly, allowing his hands to slide from Tom's hair, and onto his shoulders. Harry realised now that he must have put Marvolo's ring in his pocket, which was wise.

"And after we leave this room?"

Harry leant forwards to kiss Tom softly, the act making him dizzy again. "Not unless you want me to."

Tom backed away from Harry a little, allowing enough room for the two boys to look at each other. When Harry viewed Tom's face again, he saw it was slightly flushed with colour, and more handsome than Harry had ever seen it. Tom extracted one of his hands from behind Harry to lightly hold the latter's chin, examining him more closely than he had ever been able to before. Harry looked up into the dark grey eyes ahead of him, seeing past Tom's normally impassive countenance. He looked as willing as Harry felt to carry on kissing, yet somehow both boys knew that now was the time to speak. "I never want you to go away."

Harry wasn't sure why these words entranced him so simply, but it made him feel great happiness to hear Tom say this. Harry smiled vaguely; examining Tom's masterfully designed face. Tom smiled back down at him, his eyes displaying an inner emotion that Harry felt mirrored his own. After a moment of thought, dwelling upon this whole situation, Harry asked, "How are we going to stay like this?"

Riddle's smile faded away. Harry gave him a minute to dwell upon the situation. "I suppose… we live with not telling anyone yet," Tom began, "for it is evident that very few people are equipped to accept our situation."

Harry suddenly regretted greatly that Tom and he were not in the 90s; where it was acceptable for people to be gay… well, more acceptable. It was still nowhere near as accepted as it should be, in Harry's mind. Harry could imagine the sort of opinions the Death Eaters or even Slughorn had on such matters. Beyond all of this, Harry was at least grateful that he had Tom, even if he barely knew how or why on Tom's part.

"It will only be a few months before we leave Hogwarts, anyway," Tom remarked.

Harry looked up with slight surprise, only remembering now that his days to the school were limited. It would be about five or six months before graduation, and that seemed like an awfully short amount of time to Harry now. He wasn't sure how he felt to Tom suggesting they stay together beyond school so quickly. He decided to postpone that particular thought, not wanting to decide upon anything yet. "How are we going to last until then?"

Tom smiled softly, before leaning in to kiss Harry again. "We'll be careful," he said quietly.

Harry kissed Tom back with more persistence, but he could sense that Tom didn't feel this was the ending of their conversation. After a moment of a quiet embrace, Harry pulled away again. "I can't wear this ring or anything, you know."

"Why not?" Tom asked.

Harry removed one of his hands from Tom's shoulder to reach into his pocket, extracting Marvolo's gold and black ring. "It's too much of your trademark. The others, more than anyone else in the school, will see you gave it to me."

Tom looked a little confused to this, and for once Harry read his expression.

"You never thought of this before?"

"No," Tom replied. "I wasn't exactly… thinking straightly."

"Literally?" Harry asked, with a smile.

It took Tom a second to see the joke. He smiled. "Quite." After somewhat of a pause, he seemed to think of a plan in accordance to the ring. "I suppose we'll merely have to deem the ring as your own while I still wear it. It's the best I can do for now."

This was still more than suitable to Harry. "That sounds great." There was another moment where they both took in the other's appearance, before a thought struck Harry. "Tom… why don't you want to bring back your mother with this ring?"

This question had been running through Harry's mind on and off for the last few weeks. He couldn't understand how Tom could not want his mother back. His father was understandable, because Tom had removed him from this earth himself, but his mother was an entirely new story. Harry would do anything to call his own parents back… it tore Harry apart to think about his father, who he knew would never visit him. But Tom's mother would doubtlessly return.

Tom's expression, which was previously somewhat gratified, became suddenly dejected and more impassive. It took him a few minutes of looking down at Harry before he decided that he cared about the emerald-eyed boy enough to find some form of an explanation. "I generally try to forget about what happened in my early past. I wouldn't… know what to do with visiting my mother, or any more of my family."

This made slight sense to Harry, though it still seemed so different to his own perception on visiting his past again. He decided to push the thought away from his mind, and to not press the subject. Before he could breech a new topic, however, Tom spoke again.

"Why were there only four people who returned to you?" he asked.

Harry hesitated. How much should he lie here? If he lied incorrectly, Tom might be able to assume that he had only had four relatives and friends killed, which wasn't a very smart thing to risk… he decided to go with truth. "Most of them blame me, I suppose… and I'm not surprised. I don't even know how I lived. I sometimes wish that I was just with them instead."

Tom examined Harry again, and nodded in response. He looked like he wanted to ask Harry more about the battle, but he refrained from doing so, knowing that it was perhaps too upfront. Harry was glad that this meant he could avoid the subject for the next week or so. After a few more moments, Tom spoke again, "Why did you tell me that you didn't want to be with me a few weeks ago?"

Harry was a little surprised at this, and tried to think of an answer. "I suppose I was just scared," he almost lied. "A lot of people around me seem to die… I just didn't want to make a mistake."

Riddle smiled faintly, and Harry wondered if he was reflecting on the fact that he himself could never die, being immortal. "I'm glad you don't think this is a mistake, after all."

Harry smiled. "Me too."

"It'll be quite a challenge to tell no one of this, you know," Tom stated, perhaps to change the subject.

"It's worth it, though," Harry replied.

Tom smiled softly again, his eyes upon Harry's lips. "Yes, entirely worth it."

"What do you think they'd do?" Harry asked. "If they found out, I mean."

Tom's expression was blank. "I'm not sure."

This made Harry feel slightly nervous. He wondered whether Tom was lying or not with his answer of not knowing. But maybe the reaction of the people at Hogwarts, and the world, at this time was so strong that it was very unheard of that any person owned up to the fact of being homosexual. Harry wanted to know what would happen, though, so he could prepare for the worst… But he pushed the thought out of his mind instead.

They gazed at one another for a minute more. Harry paused, and then moved his right hand to touch Tom's face. He watched as Tom closed his eyes, opening them again slowly as desire washed over him. Harry leant in to kiss him again, becoming satisfied when Tom replied to him with yearning. Harry pressed himself closer to Tom again, the latter holding Harry close without hesitancy. Harry allowed himself to become lost in the existence of the other boy, wanting to postpone thought.

He wasn't at all sure about how this was going to end. Somehow, in his mind, some sort of separation had come between Tom and the Voldemort in Harry's past. All those years of suffering in fear and anxiety seemed like some distant dream as Harry held onto Tom, tasting, touching and becoming entirely disoriented in his presence. The only thing that Harry could possibly hope for now was that this would somehow last. If his current view on the boy in his arms were somehow delusional, which seemed impossible now, Harry hoped that there would be some way to be sure that he could still stay with Tom.