The Death Eaters were leaving more slowly than Harry could take. They were all eager to go and see their first captured follower of Gellert Grindelwald, but they certainly took their time in vacating this meeting room. Many of them were curious as to why Nott and Lestrange were being kept behind by Harry and Tom, but they didn't dare ask any questions. Harry also knew that many of them must have felt that without Tom, seeing the captured follower wouldn't be very interesting, so they weren't very keen about distancing themselves from their leader.
Nott and Lestrange were petrified and perhaps even more apprehensive than Harry was while Tom was unable to stop himself from glaring at them. The last of the leaving Death Eaters were heading out into the corridor outside. Lively talking could be heard for many more painful seconds, but Harry didn't break the increasing silence even as the Death Eaters' footsteps and voices faded away…
Then, quite suddenly, Tom withdrew his wand. The reaction from Nott and Lestrange was immediate; they hastily backed away, their eyes wide in terror. Despite of the calmer countenance Tom had worn moments before, he was blatantly more furious than Harry could have feared.
"Tom–!" Harry began.
"Please," Nott begged, recognising the furious look on Tom's face even if he had rarely experienced the true intensity of it, "we – we promise we won't say anything! Won't – won't let the…"
"You don't have to do anything d-drastic," Lestrange said, taking over when he heard Nott's voice weaken. "We won't tell anyone, nor say a word about it–"
"Oh, but I know you too well, Lestrange," Tom informed the Death Eater through gritted teeth, scrutinizing him. "I know you won't be able to keep such a promise for long. You will let something slip – under the influence of a few drinks, perhaps–"
"I won't," Lestrange swore, his voice even less confident than before, "We won't tell anyone! It will be as though – as though it never happened! We'll easily forget about it!"
"I believe it would be far easier if the others had to merely forget about you," Tom hissed.
"Tom," Harry warned. "If you'd just–"
But Tom wasn't listening. He was edging even closer to the two Death Eaters.
"Trust us," Nott implored. "Please trust us!"
"And why is it that I should trust you, Nott?" Tom inquired, his wand pointed at the Death Eater's face. "Do give me your best reasons, won't you?"
"We managed t-to keep everything a secret at Hogwarts!" Nott reminded him, speaking more bravely than Harry could hope. "We're smart enough to know that your secrets are of – of immeasurable value!"
Tom bared his teeth as if to smile, perhaps finding humour in these words.
"And I'm sure this useless act of loyalty will be reminisced by the others when you're gone."
Without thinking, Harry took a step forwards to stand between Tom and the Death Eaters. Tom lowered his wand and appeared momentarily less angry when he looked at Harry, but his anger returned when he registered that the concern past Harry's exasperation was only for Nott and Lestrange.
"Listen to yourself!" Harry shouted in disbelief. He felt more enraged as he watched Tom's expression turn cold. "How can you think that – that getting rid of them is the only way this can be fixed?"
"It worked in the past, didn't it?" Tom asked, baring his teeth again.
"But they're your friends!" Harry shouted. "You can't just start doing these things to people when they're too much of an inconvenience to you, Tom!"
"Then what do you suggest we do?" Tom inquired. "Memory charms? I know how you love to use those, Jonathan, but you know better than I what complications we face here."
Harry glared at Tom to hide his unease, not wanting to admit that it would indeed be risky to modify Nott and Lestrange's memories…
As good with memory charms as Tom might be, the magic became more complex and difficult when there was a long history of guesswork leading up to the event that was forgotten. Nott and Lestrange would begin regaining their memories the moment they were reminded of their jokes and theories concerning Harry and Tom being together. There were a lot of things in Tom's land that would trigger their old thoughts, what was more…
"There has to be another way," Harry said, his voice less irked than before.
"There isn't," Tom responded curtly, looking just as annoyed as ever.
Harry tried to think of a good plan, but there wasn't much option. The only reasonable idea that he could think of was to trust the two Death Eaters, but he knew that the chance of Tom going through with this was slim. In spite of the years Tom had spent getting to know Nott and Lestrange, he was unlikely to trust them with a secret this big. Tom wasn't the sort of person to hand out his trust unless he had no other choice…
"Now, if you will let me continue…" Tom said, interrupting Harry's thoughts. He began moving to the left to get a better view of his friends.
"Wait!"
Harry had spoken before Tom could point his wand at the Death Eaters, who seemed unable to move. Harry didn't know what to say, so he ended up inventing his words wildly.
"The others will know you did this the moment they notice Nott and Lestrange are gone," he told Tom, knowing this wasn't strictly true, but not caring. "They'll become more scared of you than they already are and they'll leave this place before you can stop them."
Tom thought about this, appearing to take the suggestion seriously. Harry decided to keep on talking when he saw Tom lower his half-raised wand.
"If you just trust Nott and Lestrange," Harry began, knowing this was their only sane option, "all of this can stay between the four of us. You know that they've already been guessing the truth about us for months now, but they didn't share their theories with the others, did they?"
Nott and Lestrange didn't question how Harry knew about their theories as they watched the conversation attentively, not daring to say a word. Tom was considering Harry's claims a great deal, watching him with interest as his vexation subsided somewhat.
"They're terrified," Harry observed, "too terrified to dare go against your orders. They don't even care about us. It would be a waste to risk so much for something that can be avoided so simply."
Tom seemed to know that all of this was true. He stood for a moment, his wand held less tightly and his face displaying far less anger as his breathing levelled out. Something else also seemed to occur to him, but he didn't share his thoughts with Harry before he turned back to his friends, still furious with them.
"If you ever breath a word about this to the others," Tom said, his tone deadly, much like his stare, "I promise you I will make it my personal duty to ensure that you never return to England – never, in fact, leave the ground beneath your feet wherever you are… Have I made this clear?"
"Yes," they said in unison.
"I will know the moment anyone else discovers what you saw tonight," Tom informed them in little over a whisper. "If you lie to me, I will make you deeply regret it."
They were mute, unable to look away. It was only after taking a long moment to read their thoughts when Tom backed up slightly.
"Leave," he spat.
They did so without hesitation and without comment, closing the door behind them hurriedly. Their footsteps suggested they were running as they made their way along the hallway outside. Tom turned around gradually to face Harry, appearing not at all pleased with what he had just done.
"Thank you," Harry said honestly before Tom could speak.
Tom said nothing to this. He watched Harry's expression as though he didn't understand the relief he showed. "I would have felt a lot safer getting rid of them…"
"We're still safe now," Harry assured him. "Even more safe than we would be killing them, probably."
"No one would care if we killed them," Tom stated sourly.
When Harry said nothing to this, Tom thought. His expression suggested that he was unwillingly reassured by his own musings of the situation.
"The only comforting thought is that you and I are good enough liars to stop our other friends from believing a single word Nott and Lestrange say, if it comes to that…"
"That's true," Harry agreed simply.
He knew it would be pointless to remind Tom that Nott and Lestrange were smarter than this anyway, so he was silent. He was so relieved that he had convinced Tom to trust the two Death Eaters; he didn't care how hesitant Tom might be to accept what he had done. Harry wouldn't have been able to handle it if Tom's friends had died because of this…
Something in Harry's expression seemed to interest Tom, because he examined him as though every passing second gave him new things to think about. He began walking towards Harry slowly.
"It will ruin everything if they tell the others…"
"We can't know that," Harry reasoned. "If they fear you this much, it actually makes me wonder if maybe the others would also try and accept us–"
"Don't think for a moment that the others will understand," Tom warned him. His voice wasn't harsh, exactly, but serious.
"Why wouldn't they understand?" Harry asked. "If Nott and Lestrange–"
"We are talking about the same wizards who, in all my years at Hogwarts, were so determined to attack homosexual students that they left a series of wizards in the hospital wing for weeks at a time, not caring whether they were caught. Often the same students were attacked more than once. These sorts of crimes were the type that people like Slughorn heard about most often… not that he was truly bothered by it, in truth."
Harry's eyebrows creased in concern. "You never told me that before."
"I tried to forget it," Tom admitted. He was standing closer to Harry now. "The idea haunted me through all my years at Hogwarts… It was one of the few types of attacks I didn't initiate or encourage my friends to do."
"Yet Nott and Lestrange…"
"Will be more than willing to tell the others about us if they are repulsed enough."
Harry felt a great wave of despondency when he heard Tom speak these words. He could see a look upon Tom's face that he felt partially reflected his own while they dwelt upon this truth…
Over the years Harry had heard many jokes and insults from the Death Eaters relating to their pure abhor of homosexuals in any context, but in general he had learn to ignore it and forget it the best he could. Harry and Tom rarely spoke in length about the viciousness that many wizards – be them Death Eaters or not – displayed towards thought of homosexuals, but Harry understood it was something that bothered the both of them constantly on some level.
Tom seemed to be thinking about the same thing as Harry, but he appeared more frustrated the more he thought about it. His breathing was more strained as visible anger filled him. His hands curled into fists while he averted his cold eyes from Harry.
"We cannot let Nott and Lestrange carry around this secret," he decided, turning away. "We should bring them back here at once."
"Tom, don't do that," Harry implored, suddenly alarmed.
"They can't be trusted," Tom stated. "I don't care if I have to murder them in front of the others, we cannot allow them to say anything. We will lose everything that we have!"
"You can't bring them back here!" Harry exclaimed, panicking.
Tom wasn't listening. "I shouldn't have hesitated in stopping them. I should have punished them, at least, when I had the perfect cha–"
Harry grabbed Tom's arm and forced him to stop, not knowing what else he could do.
Tom was still irked as he looked at Harry, but his anxiety about their secret being known seemed to make him desire Harry more than anything. They looked at each other for a split second while Tom tried to shake Harry off, but Harry wouldn't let him go. Tom gave up trying to fight, and in a whirl of trying to gain control over his emotions, Harry suddenly felt Tom's lips pressing against his own, their bodies staggering in the shock of a fervent embrace.
Tom pressed Harry backwards in a heated mix of frustration and pure desire and hope that he would be able to stay with Harry forever. All Harry could do was kiss Tom eagerly, feeling his back hit the wall. Tom's every movement was rough and longing and Harry enjoyed it greatly. He breathed heavily while he pulled Tom closer…
Their kiss eventually ended due to the knowledge that they couldn't continue this here, but Tom stood close to Harry when this happened, debating whether he could really bring himself to leave. Harry listened to the pace of their breathing, his eyes closed and his desire to kiss Tom again very strong.
"Well, it's good to see we learnt from our previous mistake of the night," Harry murmured jokingly.
Tom gave a soft breath of laughter close to him, kissing his neck. "No one would find us in here again…"
Harry decided not to mention that they could easy he found here. After a time, they slid away from each other slowly, unwillingly.
"Let us go home and forget about all of this," Tom suggested, as he gazed at Harry in craving. "We'll spend the night together…"
"You have to go and meet the follower that Ransom and the others brought here," Harry reminded him, surprised that he had forgotten this. "All of your friends are waiting for you."
Tom didn't appear very pleased about this reminder. He didn't seem to want to leave…
"You should go," Harry said. "This is the first follower of Grindelwald we've found."
Tom reached up a hand to caress the side of Harry's face, his long fingers feeling the texture of Harry's hair. "Will you wait for me at home?" he asked softly.
"Of course," Harry whispered, smiling. He was glad that Tom understood how he didn't want to see Grindelwald's follower at all. "I'll be at your house."
Tom kissed him gently, and soon they left.
–X–
March faded slowly into April, bringing with it only marginally more bearable weather in Tom's land. Harry found himself plummeting into lower spirits while a growing number of Grindelwald's followers were tracked down and dragged here for questioning. He didn't know how many people Mulciber – and quite a few other Death Eaters – must have killed by this point, but he tried not to think about it in general, because he had began fearing this too in the nightmares that so recently haunted him…
Despite feeling healthier than he had in months, Harry couldn't quite shake off his emotional struggle even while he relished in the improvement of his physical state. He couldn't sleep nor concentrate on very much while he knew wizards were being tortured and questioned in the Death Eaters' buildings. He knew it was for the better and knew that these wizards deserved it, but he couldn't quite get his head around the idea of murdering…
Harry took a deep breath to steady himself as he leant above the table in his kitchen, waiting for water to boil for tea. His eyes were closed. He had barely slept, but he knew that the sun would rise in less than an hour or so. He was alone in his house because Tom had been with the Death Eaters and a follower last night, gaining more information on Grindelwald's people. Harry didn't know whether he wished Tom was here or whether he was glad he wasn't…
It was very hard to explain to Tom why he, Harry, couldn't sleep. No matter how much Tom tried to understand it, he didn't seem able to grasp that Harry suffered nightmares about what happened to him at Grindelwald's fortress because it still stressed him emotionally. Tom couldn't seem to fully understand that although Harry felt completely healthy physically, the idea of followers being brought here made him anxious and troubled him. But then again, Harry felt as though he himself didn't fully understand it either…
Tom had thought at first that the nightmares were happening because Harry wished to seek revenge, but Harry said that wasn't the case. Then Tom thought that perhaps Harry feared death, but Harry explained hastily it wasn't that either. His last guess was that Harry's mind was dwelling on how best to defeat Grindelwald's people even while he slept, but even when this too was denied Tom couldn't seem to refrain from asking 'why?' when Harry told him about his prolonged fear of how he had been treated.
The kettle was boiling. Opening his eyes, Harry headed towards the stove, extinguishing the flame and levitating the kettle with a silent swish of his wand. He turned to the counter behind him, ready to make the tea properly, when he caught a glimpse of the reflection in the window. Emeric was standing behind him.
Before Harry knew it, his magic failed and with a deafening 'crash!' the kettle smashed to the floor, causing hot water to fly in all directions. Harry's wand was already out when he turned around; ready to curse Emeric before he could move… but Emeric was nowhere to be seen.
Harry's heart pounded in his ears as his eyes darted around the room frantically. He held his wand up, ready to fight. There was no way Emeric could have slipped out of the room before Harry had turned around. He had been staring right at Harry through the reflection, standing just behind him…
"Homenum revelio," Harry whispered.
No one else was in the house. Harry wondered if he had seen Emeric outside, but he knew he hadn't. It seemed highly unlikely that Harry could mistake someone being behind him if they had really been outside. The glass in the window reflected the kitchen like a mirror with the dim lighting. Harry reminded himself that Emeric couldn't have gotten in this land without either Tom or the Death Eaters knowing about it immediately, anyway. The only explanation was that he hadn't really been here. He hadn't been real…
Harry stared around the room in concern, unable to believe that he had imagined Emeric. He knew he probably hadn't slept enough, or was worrying too much, but this didn't make him feel at all better. He realised that he had been vaguely burnt by the hot water that fell. At this, he decided to clear away the mess. He wasn't eager to drink anything by the time he levitated the empty kettle back to the stove. His hands were shaking…
Without really thinking about it, Harry left the kitchen, deciding that he didn't want to be alone in this house any longer. He grabbed a travelling cloak as he hurried towards the front door. It was cold outside, but he drew the cloak closely around him as he walked. The sun was almost rising. After about a minute of wandering he was getting closer to Tom's house. Before he reached the house, however, he noticed something odd. The Dragons were making more noise than usual…
This alarmed Harry at first, but gradually he felt as though there was something calm in the Dragon's loud, distant voices. It was a beautiful sound the more he heard it. Harry understood somehow that Tom was with the creatures. He wouldn't be training them this early, but Harry felt as though he would be there… after a moment of walking towards the Dragons, Harry found he was right.
The first rays of sunlight could be seen shining above the forest that framed the horizon to the east. Grey fog obscured most of the scene in what might have otherwise been a light blue morning, but this only added to the beauty of the land. The Dragons loomed tens of feet high even while they rested, appearing tired as their gold and green scales glittered in the early morning light. Tom was watching them peacefully. Harry walked towards him, slipping his hand in Tom's when they were close.
"Did you not sleep well?" Tom asked softly, noting Harry's weariness.
"Not at all," Harry admitted.
Tom examined him lightly. Their cold hands were warming with the aid of the other. "You seem nervous about something," he remarked.
"It's nothing…"
Tom didn't look convinced as he gazed at Harry. "You can tell me about it, whatever it is."
Harry knew this was true. Tom wasn't exactly going to judge him, after all…
"I thought I saw Emeric at my house," Harry began. His words sped up a little when Tom showed signs of interruption, "But it wasn't really him, of course… I must have imagined it."
Tom seemed tempted to react in a worried way, but he refrained from doing so. He was placid. He took a moment to think about it.
"You need more sleep."
"I know…"
"We should go back inside…"
The sounds and the views of the early morning seemed to want to contradict Tom's suggestion. Some of the mist was disappearing as the sun rose slowly, shedding light on the cobwebs in the grass and on the dark scales of the Dragons. There was distant movement in the trees that caught their attention. The movement didn't last long, however.
"There has been a noticeable lack of birds here, ever since we went into hiding," Tom mentioned quietly. His eyes carefully scanned the forest that they partially owned. "Birds cannot return here once they leave, of course…"
"We should bring more in," Harry suggested, smiling softly.
"Or better yet conjure them," Tom said, returning the smile at the thought. After watching Harry for a little while longer he added, "But for now, let us return to my house."
Harry didn't object. He was sure that he would feel a lot safer falling asleep if Tom was nearby. It would be good to get some rest…
–X–
But even after days of rest Harry wasn't sure how he felt about Grindelwald's followers. No matter what Tom said about the followers deserving death for threatening it, Tom and the Death Eaters weren't exactly fighting for their lives when they captured wizards in small numbers, killing them after cruel interrogation. Harry had to question often whether it was really any better to murder someone because of circumstance…
Harry felt guilty of many levels. Tom was doing all of this for him, after all. He was tracking down these people through sheer determination, linking details together and trying to get even more information on other wizards who wanted Harry dead. Surely Harry shouldn't feel sick when he read the minds of the murdering Death Eaters, catching glimpses of bloodstains on their floors and hearing screaming if he was anywhere near their buildings on some nights…
"These people aren't innocent," Tom reminded Harry one cold, rainy evening. They had just left another meeting with the Death Eaters, but Harry wasn't gone soon enough to miss the cries of the newest follower, who spat words in angry, hysterical German between the curses being used by the Death Eaters in the corridor outside.
"I know," Harry said quietly. "I know they aren't innocent…"
The Death Eaters were bringing the follower to Tom. This large room, which was used for practicing magic in during the day, also happened to be the perfect place for questioning Grindelwald's people in. Harry tried to think of an excuse to leave when he saw the struggling man in the Death Eaters' grip. He didn't think he recognised this particular wizard, but the wizard seemed to know exactly who he was.
"Dolohov," Tom ordered, "if you will…"
Dolohov shot a spell at the wizard as he attempted to lunge at Harry. The spell seemed to hurt him, but he kept squirming and laughing madly, trying even harder to fight.
"He was just telling us about some of the crimes he's committed," Gonson informed Tom. "He seems to have given up trying to withhold information in general…"
"What did he say?"
"He keeps going on about some meeting place. I don't know if he's speaking sanely or not… You're probably better off talking to him in German."
Tom merely inclined his head, his eyes wandering back to the follower.
"You don't know vat you are doing," the follower said in a hushed voice the moment his eyes met Tom's. "You don't know who you are fighting…"
Harry watched the follower closely. He seemed absolutely mad while he fidgeted in the Death Eaters' grasp, his eyes continuously darting back to Harry, no matter who else he looked at…
"You are mistaken," Tom responded quietly, as he took slow, deliberate steps towards the wizard. "I know precisely what I am doing, who I am fighting… the fact that you are here proves this much, does it not?"
Some of the Death Eaters sneered and snickered, but the follower merely spat on the ground, earning him a dose of the Cruciatus Curse from Tom.
Harry left only a minute later. Without much effort, Tom managed to make the follower tell him exactly where more of Grindelwald's people were hiding. He sent Avery, Macnair, Gibbon, and Lestrange off to investigate the location without a moment of hesitation. From what Harry later heard, the Death Eaters were both satisfied and thrilled with how the night had ended.
–X–
Harry was terrified that he would see Emeric in his house again. He knew Emeric had never truly been here at all and he knew that it was only due to tired delirium that he imagined Emeric standing behind him, but he couldn't stop his fear nonetheless. It had felt so real seeing him in the window's reflection…
Harry ended up spending a lot more time at Tom's house, feeling too afraid to be embarrassed about craving constant company. Tom didn't seem to mind Harry staying with him – he appeared to quite like the excuse, in fact. Occasionally they would both stay at Harry's house to break the pattern, but Harry didn't mind that… so long as he didn't have to enter the kitchen alone.
It was late one evening when they sat together in Tom's living room, conversing about a number of things concerning the Death Eaters, Grindelwald's people, and how Nott and Lestrange had been acting lately. Tom didn't seem happy about trusting his two friends even though a solid month had passed with them keeping their word. Harry could barely believe it.
"It is irrelevant whether or not they have yet told anyone," Tom stated firmly as they sat in front of a quiet fire. "What matters is that they might tell the others in the future. No matter how long they hold their silence for, we cannot guarantee that they will be loyal forever."
"But they're doing well in keeping our secret," Harry reminded Tom; unable to understand how he was still worried. "Surely that's enough to prove they're reliable?"
"It proves that that they have been reliable, not that they will be in the future."
Harry shook his head, gaping at Tom. "They're not that careless, Tom – nor that stupid!"
Tom didn't respond to this.
"How long will it take for you to trust them properly?" Harry asked, hoping this might make Tom promise to trust Nott and Lestrange one day.
"Trust is a dangerous thing," Tom remarked, avoiding the question.
"But you trust me, don't you?"
"Of course I do," Tom said, "but this is because I love you."
"You don't have to love someone to trust them," Harry remarked.
Harry saw Tom's eyebrows crease in slight confusion. After a moment, Tom said quietly, "Well love certainly makes it easier…"
As Harry watched Tom, he began to wonder whether Tom thought of trust and love as the same thing, due to the fact that he had never loved nor trusted anyone before. For eighteen years he had cared for no one, connected to no one, and was devoted to no one in any way. Harry had changed that, and for the first time he wondered whether this is why Tom trusted almost nobody…
"Trust and love are two completely different things," Harry mentioned quietly.
"How so?"
"Well, it would be pretty hard to explain their differences," Harry began unsurely, wondering whether Tom would even understand this. "Since there are so many different levels to both trusting and loving someone, it would be quite hard to point out every difference…"
Tom's look of slight confusion had been replaced with a look of interest. "What do you mean by different levels?" he asked slowly.
There was a pause.
Harry knew that Tom wasn't an unintelligent person in any way, so it was a slight surprise to him when Tom evidently didn't understand what he was saying. Harry supposed, after taking Tom's past into consideration, that his confusion was only to be expected, but it was still a strange thing. Harry decided to launch into an explanation of his thoughts, wanting to be understood.
"Well, obviously people don't love their friends in the same way that they love their partners," Harry pointed out, "and a lot of people don't love certain friends in the same way they love other ones. I suppose it must be sort of the same with families…"
He didn't appear to be doing a very good job at explaining this because Tom appeared more confused again.
"Think about it this way," Harry pressed on, "You like your friends for a whole number of reasons, don't you?"
"Yes," Tom answered. "They're useful in many ways."
"But even past their usefulness," Harry said, "you obviously must like them all as people in different ways."
"A few of them have their good qualities…"
"And those qualities determine how much you like and trust each friends, right?"
Tom nodded once slowly.
Harry allowed him to think about this.
"So," Tom began slowly, "you're saying that how much I trust my friends proves how much I care about them?"
"Yes," Harry said.
Realising what he was agreeing to, he shook his head.
"Wait, no. I mean, the fact that you like your friends in different ways proves that there are different extents to love."
"I don't love my friends," Tom assessed quickly, as though the idea repulsed him.
"You must in some way," Harry said, "They're your friends."
Tom looked at Harry as though he was cautious that this might be some sort of test, a trick.
"Think about it," Harry urged, dreading the fact that he couldn't explain himself well at all, "If something was to happen to one of them, how would you feel?"
Tom frowned. "Annoyed that they failed in the task I set them."
"What if they didn't die because of something you asked them to do?" Harry asked. "What if they died because they were… murdered at a Quidditch match?"
"Well, they shouldn't be wasting their time watching Quidditch," Tom answered, looking slightly annoyed at the mere idea. "They deserved it if they choose to engage in such mindless activity rather than broaden their minds through knowledge and so on."
Harry had to refrain from mentioning that watching Quidditch hardly meant that people deserved to be killed. He decided to give up on trying to give Tom examples of love via the Death Eaters. That was a useless endeavour, when he thought about it.
"Look, what I mean is that trust is the same as love in the sense that it changes with every person, but that doesn't make it the same thing."
Again Tom appeared dubious to believe his words.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
"People love too carelessly, it seems," Tom mentioned quietly. "You are the only person I love and the only person I care about…"
Harry felt a twinge of sadness when he heard these words. He wished that Tom had at least one other person in his life to love in some way so he could understand that he, Harry, wasn't the only other human who could understand him. It was undeniable that Tom had never had friends before and – as Dumbledore had once suggested – nor has he ever truly wanted any…
If this is what Tom was like while Harry was with him, Harry could barely imagine what he could have been like if he hadn't fallen in love. Harry couldn't refrain from reflecting that Tom might have never experienced the need to care for, trust, or even properly listen and connect to another living creature…
"Only caring about me is probably why you can't understand this," Harry told Tom, his voice quiet.
Tom contemplated this. "Have you loved other people?" he asked, appearing to dislike the idea.
"Of course I have," Harry answered truthfully. "I used to have friends that I loved – in a far different way than I love you."
"Is that why you refuse to call my friends your friends?" Tom asked, the idea appearing important to him. "Because you don't love them?"
"No," Harry responded, thinking about it for only a second. "I refuse to call them my friends because I neither love nor know them."
Tom gazed into Harry's eyes, trying to make sense of it. "You've seen their minds," he said.
Harry smiled sadly. "But not their hearts…"
A moment passed in silence. Eventually Harry realised that someone was knocking at the door. Tom was reluctant to do anything as he dwelt on Harry's words.
"You should answer it," Harry advised.
Tom stood up reluctantly, not saying a word. When he turned away Harry got up too. He followed Tom, but let him walk further ahead. When Tom opened the front door, they found Nott standing on his doorstep.
"What is it?" Tom asked shortly.
"I'm sorry to bother you," Nott said, "but there's something I need to bring to your attention…"
"Do carry on."
Nott took a deep breath, before saying, "Avery, Gibbon, Macnair, and Lestrange, who you sent to Germany two days ago, are hours late now."
"A few hours of delay is nothing to worry about," Tom remarked after not much thought. "Our friends likely found nothing, thus didn't think to send anyone here quickly. They might have even stopped on their way back to drink and so on."
"I've thought of that," Nott mentioned bravely, "but Lestrange gave up drinking ever since you mentioned how he might say something if he was intoxicated."
"I didn't mean that literally," Tom said, annoyed. "It was a mere suggestion for an example of his weakest times."
"The thing is though, Macnair doesn't drink either. Gibbon does, but he doesn't have any power over anyone."
"Your point being?"
"Lestrange and Macnair would never be convinced by Avery and Gibbon to stop for a drink. They're the ones in charge. It doesn't make sense that they would be late."
"I assure you, they are doubtlessly taking a slow trip back here," Tom said. "It is nothing to worry about."
Nott was close to prolonging his argument, but he didn't seem to know what to say.
"I shall give them a few days to get back here," Tom informed the Death Eater. "Until then, there are other things I have to deal with."
Nott nodded, but said nothing.
"Goodnight," Tom said.
"Goodnight…"
Tom closed the door when Nott left. He turned to Harry.
"I don't understand why he would bother us about such a useless thing…"
Tom began walking across the room to lead Harry to his living room once more.
"He might be right," Harry mentioned idly.
"He isn't right," Tom stated. "Knowing Avery and Gibbon, they've probably convinced themselves and the others that I wouldn't mind a day's delay for them to relax – and they're right."
"I suppose so," Harry commented. He was of no true opinion to this situation, in full honesty. They entered the living room again.
This room had a surprisingly comfortable feel to it. The curtains had been drawn and the two or three lit torches shone a soft light against the stone walls, as well as the high wooden beams above them. The large fireplace warmed the entire room easily. Harry and Tom sat in the same seats as before, close together upon a comfortable dark green couch.
"I still don't think you should be so impatient with Nott," Harry commented. "He knows you have a lot to worry about, so I don't blame him for wanting to remind you that Lestrange and the others are late."
"He needn't remind me of anything," Tom stated, appearing vaguely annoyed. Harry wondered if he was just being bias towards Nott. "When the four of our 'missing' friends return home tomorrow, I'm sure Nott will forget he was ever worried about it."
Harry said nothing, not truly bothered by the idea in full honesty… But Avery, Gibbon, Macnair, and Lestrange didn't return home the next day, or the day after, or the day after that…
Dear Readers: I know this chapter isn't great, but I assure you that I have a back-to-normal and more well-written chapter waiting to be Beta Read, to be published within the next day or so. I actually ended up splitting up this chapter (which was ten thousand words) into two chapters, due to lack of time right now. I feel so stupid for letting another three weeks pass before this chapter, but again: the next chapter will be better and published soon.
