Chapter 108:
"And why would you want to do that? If I were, hypothetically, doing so?" Harry questioned, carefully keeping his voice calm.
"I have my reasons," Tom returned, challenging. Harry narrowed his eyes.
"And those reasons would be what?" .
"Well," Tom began, in a lazy drawl which was belied by the gravity in his gaze. "Hypothetically, if you were following the plan of hunting them, they would be very well guarded and only I would be able to get you through such safe holds without killing us both." The Slytherin Heir smiled, sweetly. "I'm simply concerned for your health, golden boy."
"I'm sure," Harry deadpanned. "Touching, really…but, hypothetically, I'll probably work alone."
He knocked Tom's legs out of the way, striding towards the Dorm, not because the conversation had ceased to hold his interest, but…his body came to a lock in the middle of the room.
"Hypothetically, that's not an option," Tom said, voice softer now, more dangerous. "But shall we drop the hypothetical, hero, seeing as we both know that there's nothing hypothetical involved here?"
"Careful, Tom, you're control freak tendencies are showing again," Harry said flatly.
His insides twisted at the forced stillness, instincts rearing against it, not liking it at all.
He was dragged backwards in response, and then spun, so he was standing in front of Tom again.
He wished he could fold his arms, but settled for a defiant quirk of his brows, demanding.
Tom lounged back against the sofa, a vaguely smug glint in his eyes amongst other colder glints.
"You can go with me," Tom stated, "or you can not go at all. We both know I could stop you…I could just keep you from walking more than five metres away from me if I particularly wanted to… so. Let's skip the part where you sulk, struggle, evade, or storm off, shall we?"
"Why are you so desperate to come?" Harry asked, ignoring Tom's 'suggestion.'
"Because," Tom replied, evenly, "as shocking as this might be, I don't actually want to make this more difficult for you than it already is. You're going to spend the rest of your life in regret if you don't exhaust your research efforts…not that I plan to let you follow through on their fruits if it comes to that anyway…and find some small level of acceptance that I'm going to become Voldemort, and that there's nothing you can do about it. As you said, it's my choice."
Tom studied him, head tilting.
"If I wanted to break you, Harry, I would have already done so."
Harry blinked. Yeah. That was shocking. And suspicious regarding why Tom was being so open…but Tom had always been rather unpredictably open, it just normally meant he was hiding other things.
Besides, Tom never acting on one motivation alone.
"Uhuh…and what's the real reason you want to come?" he asked.
"How do you know that wasn't the real reason?" Tom smirked. "I could have given it to you in the full knowledge you would automatically assume another one…or maybe, it is my real motive, and I'm simply saying it's not to screw with your head….who knows! Take a lucky guess, sweetheart," the other dared.
"You're infuriating."
"Are you still planning on going alone?" .
"Considering I wouldn't trust you not to sabotage my attempt to save your life, yeah, I am," Harry snapped.
"I'm not the suicidal one," Tom returned, in an insinuating tone, unmoved by the declaration of suspicion.
"Neither am I!" Harry growled, frustrated.
"Not actively," Tom acknowledged. "But you have to admit…seeking oblivion? Giving yourself the mental age of a child? One might believe you must die for me to live or something at this rate, because your solutions to preventing Voldemort thus far have largely been nothing short of self-destructive."
Dark eyes pierced through his soul with a fascinated shine.
"Yeah, well, considering the torture Voldemort has long since promised me, I'd say death was more preservative than destructive," Harry replied, flippantly.
Tom stared at him.
"Stubborn," he remarked, finally. "But stubbornness will gain you nothing this time."
"Nor will insistent demands gain you what you seek either," Harry shrugged. "So where does that leave us?"
"Another stalemate, or so it would seem," Tom replied. "Unless, of course, you trust Dumbledore to find and not destroy them on your behalf? You seem rather close again."
There was a definite mocking drawl to the latter suggestion, and Harry considered it for all of five seconds, before realising that he would never trust Dumbledore fully with something with Tom, even under oath to help.
"Although, it's less of a stalemate considering I win," the young Dark Lord continued, slyly. "And I can wait you out, as you're the one with a rapidly approaching deadline."
Tom was right there; Harry simply didn't have the time to wait around playing games anymore. He had until the end of the year, a couple of months now, to figure out how to rewrite history.
It sounded worse when he put it like that.
"Win, Tom?" he returned, quietly. "Do you really? Because the way the story's going it seems more like we're both losers."
Tom favoured him with an unreadable expression.
"Perhaps, but us both losing is better than you winning."
Harry almost gaped.
"And what if we find a way to both win?" he questioned
"There isn't one."
"Then why would you let me look with you, but not without you?" He studied the Slytherin Heir. "Sometimes, I think you've given up on, but other times…"
Tom's eyes flashed, and he spoke flatly.
"I'll let you look because you have to, that doesn't mean I trust you not to do something stupid if you go looking alone. I'll let you look because I want you figure this out, but that doesn't mean I have any hope that you will, and I'll come with you because there'll come a time when I need to know what to create."
Harry gritted his jaw.
"Easy for me, Tom? You're just trying to make it easier for you, at least have the courtesy to be honest about that. You can come, but don't expect me to work with you. You've made it perfectly clear that we're on different sides now."
"Don't be so overdramatic," Tom said coldly, and he felt the lock on his body release. "We've never been on the same."
Harry spun and stormed into the Dorm room.
Tom sank further into the lounge, wanting to pull his knees up closer to his chest for comfort, but not allowing himself the indulgence.
He had one too many weaknesses already, he was too human. Far too human. He hated it.
If Wizards could live as Gods amongst men, then why did he still have to suffer through such limitations? He hated limitations too.
He suppressed a sigh, gazing into the flickering fire before him, tired.
Bloody Harry.
He didn't know why the boy was so upset, he was the one who practically had his whole life planned out for the foreseeable future…but he was also the one in control. Harry was helpless, and aware of that on some level, lashing out against the restraints placed upon him by Fate and history.
Unravelling.
They both were.
Their relationship…dynamic…whatever they had, thrived off the challenges and games they played, but this was straining it to breaking point.
It was…nice to have someone care enough to go to this length to save him, to try and help him, but…he'd never accepted help very easily, and was loathe to do so now.
For once, he was loathe to sacrifice another for the sake of himself. His lips twisted.
The irony was that the reason for him to leave the future Fate dictated was the reason that he stayed.
He could easily solve this, he could walk away and never look back, live his life like he wanted, be what he wanted to be and never stop running from the memories.
All that seemed necessary for that to happen was for Harry to die.
Inexplicably, it seemed neither of them could truly live with the other around, only survive. For Harry to be, Voldemort had to be and Tom would be gone. For Tom to live, Harry couldn't, only survive in shattered shadows to destroy the name he would grow to be. Or die trying…and didn't that just make everything so pointless?
But he wouldn't walk away regardless. He couldn't.
He'd invested too much of himself in Harry, and didn't that just sting.
He'd created his own downfall.
His own Kryptonite.
It was only slightly reassuring that Harry would inevitably be dragged down with him, for he'd become Harry's fatal flaw in turn.
Salazar, they were dysfunctional. And they'd never been on the same side, properly…and they would probably never have to chance to be.
Maybe in another life, another time, they would rule the world.
Look at him thinking on some other life like a teenage girl...right now, he didn't see how it could be this one, and that was all that mattered. He'd never dwelled on what ifs before, and he refused to start.
But maybe if he was very, very lucky...
He would never agree to Harry's plans, and he'd always said that Harry wouldn't approve of his.
But since when had he ever needed Harry's approval?
It was just a matter of who reached the end point first now.
A/N: Is it just me, or this story lagging a bit? I hope I'm not losing inspiration, and that none of you are losing interest. The length of this story didn't kind of run away with me…but the conclusion is coming! Promise.
Thanks for the reviews. =D You are all fantastic. I've never had a story this popular before me, it still shocks me. Much appreciation x
Now, I must go work, hope you enjoyed the fruits of my free time :)