Chapter 55:
Harry's first thought was that Tom was going to flip.
His second thought was incredulous horror as to why on earth Tom's reaction would be the first thing to pop into his head.
The third thought, and by far the most productive and sensible, was to cast a shield charm.
He did so, scrambling to find a more advantageous position for defence and offence. His head whipped around for Ron and Hermione. They were fine, dazed, but thankfully coherent enough to have drawn their own wands.
Before them lay carnage.
Dozens of Death Eaters had swarmed on the small village like a black tide, engulfing the population and leaving a wake of destruction in their movement. The air was thick with screams and panic, fires blazing from explosions created in the sudden, surprise attack.
He was immediately, painfully, aware of the fact that most the people running around, either battling or just trying to escape, were students. Inexperienced students who didn't know how to fight. He swore under his breath, taking advantage of the fact no one had noticed who he was (he didn't like to think it was arrogance to assume they would most likely all flood to attack him) to pull his best friends close, thinking furiously.
"The secret passage from Honeydukes cellar, get as many students out through there as possible - now, quickly! - and try and alert the staff. Go!" he ordered, before spinning to leap into the fray and engage the nearest white mask in battle.
He didn't wait for the Death Eaters to notice or face him, he attacked from behind and moved on, duelling if he was attacked or face to face with his enemy; twirling through the sickening cacophony of colour and bloodshed. He vaguely registered Hermione scream his name, and Ron shout something like "don't you bloody dare!" but he was gone, swept away amongst the battle. He only hoped they did as he asked.
He slashed his way through, helping other students where he could and pointing them to the Hogsmeade passage. He knew it was only a matter of time before the Death Eaters noticed that escape route and took action; he only hoped there were enough people to keep fighting to defend it and keep it open. When he could, he directed students to help with that.
Every loss of life was like a bitter stab wound to his heart.
Then Tom arrived.
It was clear the other had been looking for him in. And was irate.
"What the f*** are you doing?" the Slytherin Heir hissed, banishing an approaching Death Eater with an almost dismissive flish of his wand.
"Fighting," Harry replied, through gritted teeth, swishing around to take out another Death Eater. He felt Tom slip almost automatically into a back to back position with him.
"Clearly," Tom spat. "Good for you, hero, have you satisfied your quota for the day?" several attackers went down with a sickening crunch; Harry could only guess that Tom's last spell had been lethally gruesome. The Death Eaters obviously didn't realise who the boy they were duelling with really was.
"Not yet," Harry replied, his tone casual. A few Death Eaters fell, one hitting each other like dominoes under his wand. "But feel free to go ahe-"
"Well, tough. We're leaving." The Parseltongue danced off Tom's tongue, menacing.
"But," he emphasised, grunting slightly as a particularly violent curse slipped his shields to graze past his stomach as he dodged it. "feel free to go ahead."
Tom seemed to lose patience, and every Death Eater around them, and non Death Eater fighter for that matter, around them were blasted back in a massive bullet of energy, unconscious. He raised his brows.
"You have got to teach me that spe-" Tom seized his arm, yanking him roughly round so that they were no longer back to back.
"We're leaving," Tom repeated, dangerously. "Comply or it won't be your enemies or strangers who I curse next."
"You won't curse me," Harry snorted, taking out another white mask who dared breach the growing wide circle around them both. He was a horcrux. Tom had freaked earlier when he pointed a wand at himself.
The young Dark Lord smiled, cruelly.
"I was referring to the mudblood and the blood traitor."
Harry froze on the spot, unbelieving of what he just heard. His heart stopped as he glanced up at the other, gauging his seriousness. The seriousness was all the way up at level ten; deadly.
"Played your cards rather early in the game, my dear," Tom continued, the smile sharpening to a disarming smirk, before vanishing entirely. Without another word, Tom turned, knowing he would follow, cutting his way through the battlefield, death eater of civillian alike, with a fatal grace.
Swearing under his breath, glaring daggers, smart retorts and alternative options of choice temporarily short-circuited in his head at the threat, he followed - taking the opportunity to continue helping as many people as they weaved through the crowd once more.
Shame at leaving burned his guts like acid, horror drowned his mind, fear prickled his spine and rage ruled with a fist of fire from his heart. That was a low blow. Even for Tom. The other was desperate to get him - the bloody horcrux - out of line of fire.
"You're a bastard," he spat.
"You're pathetic," Tom responded calmly. The crowd was thinning out, with the dead, the unconscious or the escaped clearing the Hogsmeade. The short battle was drawing to a close, victory or failure as of yet unclear for either side to see.
It leaned towards failure.
Many Death Eaters were out of action, but the Death Eaters had greatly outnumbered them in the first place. Harry dreaded the force of Voldemort's army when they were in full power.
"No, really." Tom continued, a hint of venom in his voice. "Your desire for heroics is truly sickening in its weakness."
"As is your desire for controlling everyone around you - like, uh, me for example. Psychologists could argue that your overcompensating for-"
"Are you really going to start this now?" Tom questioned, acidly, as they battled their way through. They'd both sustained a few injuries, but nothing life threatening. "You're a hypocrite, did you know that Evans?" Harry flashed a mocking grin.
"Coming from you?" he returned insinuatingly. Tom shot him a foul look, flicking out another Death Eater. They were nearing the edge of the battlefield now.
"I make no pretences on what I am," Tom replied haughtily. "But you." For the first time since they'd started the 'conversation,' Harry heard a tinge of true, unadulterated fury in the other's tone. "You are a hypocrite. I'm trying, here. You tell me to care, and when I do, you shove it back into my face and tell me to back off, you ungrateful brat. You always whine about how I'm trying to change you but ,obviously, when you tell me to change my psychopathic nature it's all A-Okay -"
"-It's not like that," Harry snarled. "Do you have any idea -
"-Trouble in paradise?" a voice questioned mockingly.
Pain exploded in his scar.
A/N: I hope this chapter is better. I know it's up quick, but I was so ashamed of the last update that I had to. Sorry. Hope you enjoyed this one more. Adios - The Fictionist.