The arrival of spring had pushed the time of sunset to a later hour, but the sky was already darkening in front of Harry's eyes at not yet five O'clock in the evening. As opposed to the thick clouds carrying excessive amounts of chilling snow to spread across Albania that Harry had gotten used to over the last few months, above him a threat of pure rain was encouraged by the flash of lightning, and the delayed, distant roar of thunder. It was going to be a heavy storm.

Currently, the new flat where Harry and Tom stayed was empty, with the exception of Harry himself. They had rented this apartment rather than stayed in a nearby hotel because unmanaged forests surrounded this wizarding village, and it would take a very long time for them to explore all of it. Trees expanded for hundreds of miles around, becoming wilder towards the northeast, in the heart of the wood. It was one of the wizarding world's most recognised forests, thanks to its' dark reputation, and the strange stories and legends that linked to it, so it was the perfect place to look for powerful magical creatures. But Harry personally couldn't imagine Helena Ravenclaw ever visiting it, never mind hiding the Diadem there.

Tom had left the flat early that morning to explore more of the forests, and Harry, having become so used to constant ventures into the woods, had decided to stay home. He did this often, sometimes joining Tom on his search after he returned for lunch, and sometimes joining the exploration in the mornings. In the evening, Harry and Tom would study various subjects via books. They had now collected what one might consider a sizable library, and though Harry himself mainly stuck to the more enjoyable, lighter books, he forced himself to read up on Horcruxes and other dark subjects as often as his mind would allow him.

Reading and exploring become the only activities that Harry and Tom did anymore, and neither of them worked. Harry had asked Tom one day where all their money was coming from, and Tom had admitted casually that their old school friends were of some help with that, as well as some vague savings he had made in the past few years. Harry couldn't say that he was too concerned with not working, because it gave Tom and himself more time to work on other ideas and pieces of research in the day, at least.

Tom had begun speaking to Harry about Horcruxes and the Dark Arts as normally as he might have done before Harry's trouble with Hepzibah's death, and though Harry was still a shade edgy about these discussions, Tom guided him into the subject by thoughtfully mentioning the aspects that fascinated Harry most in the literature they read, and so on. Harry knew that it was this same sly behaviour that made Tom so good at convincing people to do and think what he wanted them to, but Harry couldn't help but smile a little as he reflected that Tom had no ill intentions to deceive him. Harry knew Tom too well now, and Tom barely even tried to hide his schemes towards him.

As Harry sat upon one of the comfortable armchairs of their new living room, holding a heavy volume about Horcruxes in his hands, he had to admit that Tom had definitely gotten what he wanted. Harry was contemplating Horcruxes, slowly but surely, and he was staying with Tom perhaps forever. He told himself that this research was only to be sure that Tom didn't mess up anything concerning Horcruxes, but somewhere in the back of his mind he understood well that nothing he had done would change the fact that Tom would succeed in being more immortal than anyone in history had before.

Though maybe, thought Harry, they had both gotten what they wanted in the end – each other, and each other forever. It's not as though Harry disapproved of loving Tom for as long as he could. He, in contradiction, very much enjoyed the thought of spending an eternity together. There were just many things he knew he had to work out before ripping his soul apart over Tom, as much as he loved him.

Harry was split between three desires that he couldn't negotiate in any way. He wanted Tom and himself to be on the same page of opinions and aspirations, he wanted to live in vague peace with Tom, and he wanted his past to change in some way, without the only people he loved dying in front of his very eyes again.

He couldn't imagine much of this succeeding, unless he was to meet Tom halfway between grey and black, whilst restricting the Death Eaters from spreading fear and destruction, and finally with Harry trying as hard as he could to stop The Battle of Hogwarts from happening at all. This would all be whilst making sure forever that Voldemort never caught onto the fact that there were gaps in Harry's intentions, and only slight reasons behind opportunities missed…

Harry couldn't convince Tom to stop the Dark Arts, and he wasn't foolish enough to try. The Dark Arts were Tom's passion, what he felt he was placed on this earth to do. He was better at it than any subject he knew, and either because of this, or as a result of this, he felt elation towards it that Harry could never bring himself to stop.

What Harry disliked about Tom's love for dark magic was that with Tom's ability to convince people to do what he wanted them to, he had inadvertently created a group of followers who now felt the same fervency and obsession that he felt for the subject. The Death Eaters were addicted to the powerful magic that Tom had shown them, and they craved to feel it soaring through their veins, relieving them of some strain within as they practiced the Dark Arts. Harry understood this idea more clearly the more he thought about it, and the more he himself experimented with darker magic. They were addicted to the sensation that Harry had denied the existence of for so long.

It terrified Harry to think of the Dark Arts as an obsession, but also fascinated him. He didn't like to acknowledge any compulsion for these morbid subjects, because he feared that having these thoughts running around in his mind was dangerous. He worried if he was somehow broken, cracked, and these thoughts were the result of what he had held in for so long seeping out as a dark liquid over his mind and body. It was fascinating only because he understood exactly how unpredictable letting his mind explore the possibilities of the Darts Arts was now, and he wondered whether cautiously allowing his thoughts to wander over subjects was better than holding it all in.

He wasn't quite sure where his intuition to allow and accept all thought came from. He no longer wanted to avoid wondering what would happen to him and Tom in the future, he no longer wanted to avoid thinking about what the Death Eaters did, and what he himself would have to do in the future, concerning making Horcruxes and surviving. He didn't feel this was as a result of interest, he knew very well, it was just the result of hating the lies he told himself, and hating having to pretend everything would work out for him in the end somehow, as it almost always had in the past.

It was perfectly possible that not a thing would work out well in the end, and Harry could fall to pieces and break beyond repair, but he realised now that he would rather know about it, and see it before it happens, rather than hold everything in and refuse to see anything but a beautiful ending to his life, or his relationship with Tom. It was best that he knew what was happening, so he had at least some control over his life. He wasn't going to go about everything as if he were blind anymore. He understood how vital it was that he remained strong enough to stomach any change, and he was sure that talking with Tom in the woods a month ago about splitting up had triggered all of this. It felt better to him, to stop lying to himself. He felt stronger, as if his very being was finally agreeing on something.

Harry closed the book he was holding. He no longer felt like reading. It was getting late, and the storm was getting closer, but Tom still wouldn't be back for hours. It had begun to rain, and the room was dark beyond the fireplace, which held a quiet fire. Harry hoped Tom would come home early because of the rain, but he knew Tom probably wouldn't. He'd just use magic to repel the water, and carry on his search. He wanted that Diadem very badly, after all.

On the table in front of Harry, amongst a pile of books not yet replaced on any of the bookshelves that lined the walls, rested six or seven letters addressed to Harry and Tom separately. These were, of course, from the Death Eaters, who had begun sending letters about once every week or two for Harry, and quite a bit more often for Tom. The Death Eaters didn't know that Harry and Tom lived together, of course, so the two Slytherin leaders were both spoken to very differently, and for very different reasons.

The letters addressed to Tom were generally giving updates on any relatively interesting piece of news, asking Tom vital questions as slyly as Nott, Lestrange, Dolohov, and any of the others could manage. They were trying to get more information out of their leader without annoying him or bombarding him with inquiries as to how the future might go. Tom seemed to enjoy their letters, and he certainly didn't find the constant flow a bother, so Harry would say the Death Eaters had succeeded in their mission.

To Harry, the letters were as casual as the Death Eaters had always been to him. Avery wrote the most, talking about past events and present events with the others, who he still hung around with Avery quite a lot in daily life, it appeared. Avery, and a few others, often asked Harry what he was doing, and whether he wanted to join the rest of them in whatever they were doing, but Harry had so far managed to reply to every invitation with a polite 'no', along with an excuse or two. They never seemed to truly mind.

Harry was glad that he was secretly so far away from the Death Eaters. He had no desire to join any of their activities outside of Hogwarts. He knew they would be just as vile and uninteresting to be around as they had been at school. They were occasionally amusing, Harry had to admit, but that didn't make up for all of their bad qualities, in the end. They were decent friends, but terrible people, and with all of the immoral crimes they committed–

Harry felt a great rush of happiness. His heart was suddenly leaping with joy and excitement, as he felt his lungs exhale and inhale sharply with uncontrollable laughter. He could hear the sound of the rain pouring down as he laughed, and he felt more alive in that moment than he had in months! Until, almost as suddenly as this emotion had appeared, it vanished. Harry froze, the smile sliding from his face, as he heard his laughter still echoing in his ears. He had jumped up with unexpected energy, but he couldn't remember the act of standing at all.

His elation had swiftly been replaced with confusion. He wondered what had just happened. The sound of rain was muffled past the windows, unlike before. Surely he hadn't felt all of that in relation to the Death Eaters? Harry was repulsed by the memory of his old 'friends', not overjoyed. That happiness had felt completely unrelated… or at least Harry hoped so. He felt a little uneasy with the possibility that his mind had unrepentantly been thrilled with memories and assumptions on what the Death Eaters did. It had felt as though someone forced those thoughts on him, but no one could have used a spell on him now, surely?

Harry was about to sit down, to think about this, before something came to his attention. There was a soft rustling noise coming from beyond the front door. Harry, knowing no one was due home at this time, felt fear gripping him for the first time in months. When he heard the lock click, he withdrew his wand without a second of thought. The door banged open…

And there stood Tom. When their eyes met, and when Tom registered why Harry was standing with his wand at the ready, the soft smile on his lips broke into a grin. Harry was relieved to see who it was, but also confused by Tom's evident rapture. He lowered his wand just as Tom said, "I'm glad to see it isn't so easy to access our house without warning."

"I wasn't expecting you for hours," Harry said, rubbing his forehead as he put away his wand. He realised his scar had been pricking, and he wondered if that had something to do with what had just happened. "It could have been anyone at the door."

"I'm sorry to have startled you," Tom said, his smirk still visible and his tone light with joy, "but I come with good news."

"I can see that," Harry said. He was relieved, convinced now that he had only felt happiness through Tom, as odd as it was that they still shared this connection. "What is it?"

"I found it," Tom said, his voice now almost shaking in exuberance. "I finally found the Diadem of Ravenclaw."

Harry grinned. They had discussed which item Tom wanted next for Horcruxes, so Harry was able to smile back in understanding with no problem. "That's great!" he exclaimed. "Where was it?"

"Merely in a hallow tree," Tom said, walking further into the room. He appeared restless, and Harry was sure this would finally make him happier in general. He had become frustrated previously with his fruitless searches, and Harry hadn't seen him smile this uncontrollably in months. "I traced the magic in it from tens of meters away, it was so powerful. I barely dared to believe I had found it, even when I knew little else could be holding that much magic…"

"Where is it?" Harry asked, noticing by this point that Tom's hands were empty.

"I need you to help me get it," Tom said, glancing around the room now. He found what he was looking for, Harry's travelling cloak. "I can't seem to do it on my own."

"Why not?"

"It's protected in a way that requires two people or more to obtain it," Tom explained, appearing to explain this as quickly as he could. "It would normally need a whole team, but I know we're strong enough to do it ourselves. I just need you to take some of the weight of the enchantment off of me, while I break its protection. Put on your cloak, and we can go now."

Harry, still a little taken aback with all of this, yet suddenly ready for any adventure, took his cloak as Tom levitated it towards him. He withdrew his wand from his pocket once more when his cloak was on, and saw Tom heading for the door.

"No one else is going to get there before us," Harry said, as he too headed for the door. "It's been hiding there for hundreds of yeas, so there's no rush."

"There is still a slight possibility that someone could have followed me," Tom said, closing the door behind Harry. "One can never be completely sure."

"I would hate to be whoever might follow you," Harry said, smirking. "You'd know that I, as anyone, was there, no matter what. You're too paranoid."

"Says the wizard who was point his wand at my throat not five minutes ago," Tom laughed, finding only great humour in Harry's comment, as he might have anyway. He never stopped smiling as they made their way towards the exit of the building. "If I weren't cautious, the risk of someone following me would be far greater. I feel more secure when I check for who's around."

"That sounds like rationalised paranoid to me," Harry joked.

"Perhaps it is," Tom said lightly. "But I know that if anyone is there, they'll never free the Diadem before us. Even if Dumbledore, for example, was to have followed me, he wouldn't be with anyone else, and thus wouldn't have the power to take the Diadem."

They were outside by now, standing in the pouring rain. Tom began to use magic, and Harry joined him, enchanting their bodies to repel rain. They stood for a moment in silence until they were done, and Tom's smiled. "Take my arm."

Harry did so, gazing at his lover. They shared one last radiant look, before they span on the spot, Disapparating with an echoing 'crack'.

They experienced the familiar sensation of being crushed by an unmovable force for what felt like too long, before they reappeared on solid ground. They had landed in a forest, which was cramped and humid, with trees growing very close together, obscuring the already blackening sky with a layer of overlapping treetops.

Their surroundings were very quiet, and Harry could tell there was very little wildlife around, perhaps because of the storm, or perhaps just in general. The tree trunks nearby were grooved and shadowy, and visibly slippery from the rain that made it's way past the canopy. The branches of the trees were all very high up, and since the upper leaves stole all the sunlight, many lower limbs were bear of leaves, and as dead as the undergrowth, or lack thereof. The place felt haunted.

"It's this way," Tom spoke quietly.

Harry tore his eyes away from the looming view above them, feeling a lot less blissful suddenly. He followed Tom, who appeared too eager for the Diadem to care about the threatening woods as they walked over dead twigs and leaves. Rain continued pouring down, yet their movements were clearly audible to anyone who might be around in the otherwise dead silence. Harry felt as though they were being watched, and he wondered if maybe that's where Tom's paranoia had arisen. But maybe Harry was still shaken by Tom's unexpected arrival. Unseen eyes lurked in every corner.

"It's in that tree," Tom told Harry, pointing ahead of them.

Harry wasn't sure which of the many trees Tom was referring to, and they were less than five meters away from it before Harry could see where the Diadem must be hiding. A tall tree stood before them, massive in width as well as height, and bare of all its leaves, since it wasn't an evergreen tree, or anything of the sort. The trunk was thick and warped, twisting up diagonally to reveal a gash in its side, creating the perfect hollow to hide an item within. Harry could feel the magic coming off of it, and he wondered if that was because of the Diadem or the beauty of the majestic tree itself.

They moved closer to the tree in silence. There was mud slowly forming on the ground, but it was far too low to reach the Diadem, which seemed to be protected by magic regardless, since no rain was touching Ravenclaw's praised Heirloom when Harry saw it. It could be seen in the shadows even before Tom lit his wand for better light. Harry saw that the Diadem appeared the same as it had in his past, which was likely how it had been since it's creation. It shimmered in the light they cast upon it, and visibly etched into the fine tiara were the words 'wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure'.

Tom's eyes were transfixed on the object when Harry looked at him, both of their wands' light illuminating them clearly. Tom began casting counter curses and enchantments without a word, and Harry watched him, waiting for when he would have to 'distract' some of the magic. They didn't speak as Tom began mumbling incantations, and after a few minutes of struggling, where Harry doubted whether they would succeed in obtaining the Diadem, they had broken the protection.

They stood very still; hardly daring to believe the Diadem was theirs, as they felt the magic end. Slowly, and very carefully, Tom reached a hand up to reach for Ravenclaw's Heirloom. When he pulled his hand away from the hollow, he held the Diadem within his fingers. They stared at it for a moment, before looking up at each other, grinning. Even in this cold light, Harry could see Tom was flushed with feverishness.

"We found it," Tom said in a hushed voice. "We, of all the great witches and wizards who have searched every corner of the earth…"

Tom's eyes fell back down to the Diadem. He held it very carefully, his eyes eager to take in every detail of it. It truly was beautiful…

A noise interrupted them. Previously hidden behind the falling of rain and the roar of thunder, a rustling sound indicated there's was something moving near them. Harry and Tom's eyes met, as they listened from where it was coming from. They turned their heads, slowly, in the opposite direction of the hollow tree. There, staring directly at them from between two trees stood a dragon.

It wasn't a fully-grown Dragon, of course. It was barely a quarter of a fully-grown Dragon's size, yet that was enough for it to be taller than both Harry and Tom. It had dark green scales, and a small glittering golden horn, which Harry knew from past Care of Magical Creatures classes would grow longer one day, giving the Dragon an even odder appearance. Large eyes stared down at Harry and Tom, watching curiously, as Harry and Tom stared back, transfixed.

They didn't dare move. Even as an evident baby, this Dragon would have enough strength to cause them quite a bit of trouble. Harry wondered what brought the Dragon here, especially since Dragons, like many creatures, didn't like to be around Wizarding magic. Though perhaps that was from experience in their lives, rather than instincts. From the looks of things, Harry didn't suppose this Dragon had ever seen humans before. There was a long hesitation, where Harry and Tom and the Dragon waited for something to happen. When nothing did, Tom spoke.

"It's a baby Dragon," he hissed. The Dragon's eyes moved towards him, it having heard the slight noise.

"I can see that," Harry responded. "What sort is it?"

"A Romanian Longhorn."

"What's it doing here?"

"Exploring, evidently… and I suspect its mother is around here somewhere."

This idea concerned Harry. "Will it do anything to us, the mother?"

"That depends whether we ourselves do anything."

They remained silent for a moment, neither of them able to read the other's expression as they watched the Dragon stare, its nostril's flaring and it breathed and smelt them.

"We should steal it," Tom whispered.

Harry did everything he could to refrain looking at Tom in shock. "Are you insane? We won't even be able to even leave this forest without fighting this Dragon, never mind its mother! How are we supposed to capture it?"

"Think about it, Harry," Tom pressed, obviously determined to have his plan heard, at least, "We've found a baby Dragon two countries away from where it should be, which suggests it isn't being tracked by any Ministry, and we have the rare chance, in this very moment, to cast the most powerful silencing charms on this baby as we can, while the mother is nowhere in sight. It would be an insanely foolish chance to miss!"

"How are we supposed to get it out of here while we work on silencing charms?" Harry asked, cautious of the risk they'd be taking with this Dragon's temper and strength. "Where would we put it, moreover? We can't exactly hide it in our flat for however long, and it would be impossible to get this to England, for one of the others to look after, even if they were strong enough to."

Tom thought about these problems, and Harry hoped that his message was sinking in. Harry honestly didn't feel ready to look after a creature this big, and he didn't like the idea that Tom was so keen to take this opportunity immediately. Harry had to admit this was a pretty lucky find, especially since the Dragon has walked right up to them, and was just waiting to see what happened now… but it would be so much work for them to try and take it as their own, especially when they weren't completely sure whether any Ministry knew about this. This struck a thought in Harry.

"Why don't we put a tracing charm on it?" Harry suggested. "That way, we can know where it is, and wait a month or so to make sure the Ministry doesn't do anything. I'm sure the mother has more than one baby Dragon, so we can wait to see how many others there are before stealing some. The Ministries will think they died in this forest."

Tom thought about this too. Harry knew he wanted the Dragon very badly, and he wondered what expression Tom had at the moment. He didn't dare move, so he instead waited for an answer.

"I suppose that might be a smarter option," Tom said, sounding sincere. "But we'll have to take this Dragon within a few months, before it is too old to manage on our own."

"Alright," Harry said, happy with this in mind.

"But in a moment," Tom continued, "As soon as I put a tracer on this Dragon, prepare to Apparate with me. He won't like this very much."

Harry turned to look at Tom, forgetting they needed to be still. Before he could say a thing, Tom shot a spell at the Dragon. The creature had seen Harry's movement as a sign he was moving away, so it launched towards the two wizards. The spell Tom had used seemed to hurt the Dragon, or at least shock it, because their ears were suddenly aching with the sound of the young Dragon's cry. The Dragon had stopped, thanks to Tom's spell, but now it was angry. Before Harry knew it, fire was speeding towards Tom and him.

The two Slytherins reacted quickly, using different spells to shield themselves from the flames. When the Dragon stopped trying to burn them, it was confused as to why Harry and Tom were still alive. It was about to try fire again, before they all heard a deep roaring from behind the young Dragon. Its mother had found it at last.

"Let's go!" Harry shouted, as the mother Dragon came audibly closer. The baby turned its head, and cried again for its mother.

Tom shot another spell, which caused the Dragon to look back at them in rage. Harry recognised the spell as a tracking charm, and he could barely believe Tom hadn't done this before. Harry moved towards Tom, defending them from more fire as Tom waited for the spell to set in properly. They heard the roaring of the fully-grown Dragon again, and Harry grabbed Tom's arm. Seconds later, Harry felt Tom spin on the spot, and they Disapparated out of the forest with a now barely detectable 'crack'.

When they landed back in the wizarding village where their house rested, it was blindingly dark compared to the now partially burning forest. They lit their wands once more, Tom turning towards Harry the moment they caught their breath. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Harry said breathlessly. His heart was still pounding. "We should be glad we didn't try and take that Dragon, though."

Tom smiled faintly, a breath of laughter escaping his lips. "I would have liked to try, as wise as it evidently was to track it instead."

Harry smiled a little too, holding back a remark of how long it took Tom to put the charm on the Dragon. It had begun attacking them before they had even raised their wands, so not tracking it probably saved their lives… or at least some hassle. "You still have the Diadem, right?"

"Of course," Tom said. He smiled at the thought. "It would be nice to go back home and admire it now, I believe."

Harry smirked, squeezing Tom's hand before letting it fall away. "That would be nice."

They headed for their apartment, passing only a few lit houses in this quiet town, even with the sun having set only an hour ago beyond the clouds. The fire in their house had died down to embers in their absence, but Harry lit it again with magic as he stood in front of the fireplace. Tom lit some of the torches and candles to lighten the room, before he pulled Ravenclaw's Diadem out of his pocket, to examine it.

He studied it for only a minute, before walking across the room to be close to Harry.

"I cannot believe we have this item to ourselves," Tom said softly as he sat on their couch, indicating for Harry to sit next to him. "So many centuries have passed since its disappearance, and yet here it is, in spite of all the legends that claimed it was lost forever…"

Harry sat next to Tom, both of them focusing their attention on the Diadem. Harry didn't have much to say concerning the Heirloom, but he enjoyed seeing Tom so satisfied with his success in finding it. Tom's long, thin fingers slid carefully across the central front of the tiara, and he was lost in thought for a moment, gazing down at his treasure.

"Was I more determined to get this item than the average person?" Tom asked softly, speaking more to himself than Harry. "Was it the intention I had for it's use – not as a source of wisdom, but mainly as a Horcrux – which guided me to it? Has no one else as powerful as I searched as hard for it, and dwelt upon the history as endlessly? I could have been merely lucky… I have searched for it, whilst only vaguely knowing its location, for solid months…"

"No one else seems to have asked Helena Ravenclaw about the history of the Diadem," Harry reminded Tom. "Or at least, they never managed to get a word out of her about it, from what you told me about her."

"So much is true," Tom said quietly, his fingers still feeling the Diadem cautiously, as if he feared it would break even now. It took him a long time to say anything after this. "Do you want to see it?"

"Sure," Harry said, surprised.

Tom had turned his attention towards Harry, smiling and passing him the Diadem the moment his answer was given. Harry took the Heirloom carefully, his eyes meeting Tom's for only a moment. It wasn't hard for him to believe that Ravenclaw herself wore this crown once, as he examined how skilfully the item was constructed, with a breath taking appearance, and powerful feel to it. He hadn't been able to look at it properly in his past encounters with it. It had only ever been a Horcrux to him, an evil object. Now he saw the beauty of its early life, somehow.

As he examined the object, Tom was examining him, his eyes darting across Harry's face to try and see his reaction to the Heirloom, or else just to watch him. As soon as Harry noticed Tom's examination of him, he stopped thinking about his past connections to this very object, and smiled. He attempted to hand it back.

"Don't you want to try it on?" Tom asked softly. "It's supposed to hold so many magical properties, as I perhaps told you before."

"Sure," Harry agreed. They smiled, and Harry felt Tom's hand wrap around his own. Tom took the Diadem into his hands carefully, and placed it on Harry's head. He then proceeded to analyze Harry, his lips displaying content.

"How do you feel?" Tom asked.

"Normal," Harry replied.

"Yes," Tom said, "I do believe it takes a while to make one feel different, more wise. It would be too convenient if it made you instantly feel the effects of the enchantment…"

Tom's eyes travelled over the Diadem, and lower when he felt he saw it enough. His eyes took in Harry's appearance, and his smile reappeared. He reached up to take the Diadem from him carefully, placing it on a side table instead. His fingers were soon intertwining with Harry's, as Tom gave him his full attention.

"I'm glad I got to bring you to the forest, to get the Diadem," Tom said quietly. "I wouldn't have been able to retrieve it without you, and nor would I have met that Dragon."

Harry felt as though Tom said this in reference to the last time anything important happened in the woods. He too was very glad they hadn't split up that day. "I'm happy to be of some use to you."

"You're always of use to me," Tom said, smiling as he gazed into Harry's emerald eyes. His thumb slid across Harry's forefinger and thumb slowly, occasionally moving between and underneath these fingers to caress his palm. Harry could barely believe this was enough to make him crave the boy in front of him, as his eyes began to wander Tom's face.

He examined the whisper of a smile on Tom's softly parted lips, and the slightly rosy tint upon his high cheekbones, placed there from the fervency he felt from obtaining a Heirloom of the four founders, contrasting against his otherwise perfectly pale skin. Harry examined the strong cut of his jaw, and the alluring glint in his eyes, and a million other handsome things he could barely find the words to describe…

Tom raised his free hand, and stroked the side of Harry's face. Harry's eyes closed in longing, his breath becoming slightly more auditable, before he moved his head towards Tom's hand, kissing his palm, and meeting Tom's eyes again. Tom's thumb slid across Harry's lips as he moved his hand to caress Harry's jaw. Harry found that his free hand had ended up near Tom's knee, so he began moving it up his leg slowly, watching for Tom's reaching as they gazed at each other.

Tom leant forwards, unable to resist Harry any longer. They kissed passionately, their breath rough and uncontrolled, as Tom's hands sliding away from Harry's own and moving upwards, to run through Harry's hair. Harry's hand passed Tom's hips, and settled on his waist. He felt Tom's lips part form his own, to begin kissing Harry's neck. Harry hissed Tom's name, his hands gliding up Tom's back, encouraging him and holding him in an impassioned embrace.