Chapter Text
Harry kept his eyes firmly shut to concentrate more clearly on the memory.
It wasn’t that hard to envision as the event he was trying to bring up at the forefront of his mind had happened just a few days ago.
Harry had managed a humungous-ly impossible task of convincing Tom Marvolo Riddle into playing a one-on-one game of Seekers against Harry. Seeing as Harry was the youngest Seeker ever to get into a Quidditch Team, no matter that it was only a House Team at Hogwarts, it was near impossible to defeat Harry and get the snitch before him. Even Charlie Weasley and Cedric Diggory – two of the best Seekers that Hogwarts had seen before Harry – had consented defeat after Harry had thoroughly trounced them in a one-on-one Seekers match.
So, it was almost a given that Tom – who absolutely loathed Quidditch and had a love-hate relationship with brooms – will never agree to play against Harry even though they were left alone to use the Quidditch pitch, courtesy of Tom’s murderous glare when anyone even so much as thought about entering the pitch while Harry had dragged the Slytherin there with him.
But Tom had agreed, albeit with a resigned sigh and had flown around trying to find the snitch while Harry zipped around the Slytherin, enjoying the wind in his hair.
They had played three matches of who would get the snitch first. Harry had won, of course, though Tom had cheated in the last match, somehow managing to remove the Anti-Summoning Charm on the snitch and Summoning it to himself wandlessly.
Harry had been beyond confused, wondering how had the snitch, which was zooming towards the ground, suddenly and abruptly changed its course and flown straight into Tom’s hand, but it hadn’t taken him more than a few seconds to realize that Tom had cheatcheated to win that match!
That had resulted in Harry blaming Tom for cheating, of course, but Tom had innocently denied, claiming that the snitch liked him for some apparent reason, and when Harry had refused to believe the guy, furious at the audacity of the man to cheat in a Seeker’s game, Tom had pointed out to Harry that it did not matter whether he had cheated or not since Harry was the one who had actually won the game and not him, and then proceeded to sulk for the whole day and the next about losing a stupid game.
Harry couldn’t help but fondly roll his eyes at his best friend’s dramatic antics as he opened his eyes and carefully withdrew the sparkling white strand of the memory from his mind using his Holly wand and deposited it into a glass vial with utmost care.
He kept the vial carefully upright beside a black album on his bed, before flipping the album open. His eyes softened and a small smile graced his lips as he scanned the looping photographs of memories carefully stuck singly in almost every page of the album.
The photos of the memories started from the one in which Harry and Tom had first met, when they were barely three years old. Harry’s relatives – whoever they were, they never gave their names to the caretakers of the orphanage – had dropped little Harry off, saying they did not have enough funds to take care of the boy when they already had their own child to take care of.
Harry’s parents, James and Lily Potter – he had found out their names when he and Tom had turned eleven and had finally been visited by Professor McGonagall who had introduced them to the magical world – had died, murdered by some fanatics who did not like a Pureblood marrying a muggleborn, leaving Harry orphaned and alone since he did not have any other blood-relatives who could take him in except those muggle relatives who had left him off at the orphanage.
The matron had taken Harry to one of the last rooms on the second floor of the orphanage where a pale, curly black-haired boy with curious brown eyes was concentrating-ly reading through a rather thick looking book, sitting on one of the two cots present in the room beside a small wardrobe and a desk with a chair.
After the matron had told him not to do anything stupid and be a good boy and left him there on the other cot, Harry had proceeded to stare at his roommate wondering whether the boy could actually even understand half of whatever he was reading.
“Stop it.”, the pale boy suddenly ordered, without even looking up from his book.
“What?”, Harry blinked, surprised at the command in the boy’s voice.
“Desist staring at me!”, the boy commanded again.
“De-sist?”, Harry said confusedly, his three-year-old mind not understanding the word.
The boy looked up from his book with a frown. His brown eyes narrowed. “It appears your vocabulary is lacking.”, he commented.
Harry blinked again, feeling stupider by the minute. “Voca-bury…”, he said slowly, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration and confusion. It looked like the boy could understand whatever he was reading in that book, alright, if he could speak such big words when he looked no older than Harry himself.
“Hmmm.”, the boy nodded, his eyes scanning Harry from top to bottom. “You would do.”, he muttered. “You are going to be my friend from today!”, he declared.
Harry blinked – he seemed to be doing that a lot today – before the words registered in his brain and a brilliant grin appeared on his face.
“Good. Your smile is beautiful too. Here.”, the boy remarked before pulling out a small and thick book from beside him and passing it to Harry. “Now that you are going to be my friend, you need to work on your abysmal knowledge of words.”
Harry looked at the book the boy had passed to him curiously before opening it and proceeding to squint at the tiny words written in it. The writing was so small! And the words were huge!
“What….what is this?”, he asked. “It only has words! And so long ones!”
“Cease your whining.”, the boy said, giving Harry a disappointed look. “That is a dictionary. It will help you in developing your vocabulary and words’ repertoire. I want you to learn at least twenty words and their meanings every day.”
“What?!”, Harry stared at the boy wide-eyed. “Twenty! That’s….that’s more than ten! And these words are so large! I can’t learn them in a day!”
The boy opened his mouth to retort before closing them and then tilted his head. “What is your name?”, he asked.
Harry pouted. “Harry.”, he mumbled. “I really can’t learn so many…”
The boy rolled his eyes. “My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle.”, he said smoothly. “No need to whine, Harry. I will help you, since as I said, you are going to be my and only my friend. Let me just..”, the boy, Tom, neatly closed his book before getting up off his cot. He put the book on the desk before coming over to sit beside Harry. “Now,” he took the dictionary and pointed at the first word, “let’s start.”
It was hilarious for Harry and infuriating for Tom that the, now seventeen-soon-to-be-eighteen-year-old, Prefect, perfect Head Boy Tom Riddle still hadn’t managed to drill all the words that could be found in a dictionary into Harry’s brain.
Every time that Tom had managed to stomp some outrageously long and hard words into Harry’s mind, Harry would forget the ones he had learnt before those.
It was entertaining to watch Tom try to keep his cool when Harry was sure the Slytherin only wanted to rip his and Harry’s hair out of their heads in sheer frustration at Harry’s lack of enthusiasm to keep his vocabulary on par with some rich, conceited arsehole’s.
The pictures following after that memory were the ones they spent together at the orphanage – reading together under a tree, having a small food fight with each other, then doing some chore because the matron had seen them wasting food and has assigned them punishments for a whole month.
There were photographs of the memories Harry had of them sneaking behind the bushes to find some garden snakes so that Tom could use his special gift to chat with them and translate whatever they said so Harry could understand them too; memories of them walking hand-in-hand when they went to a trip at a village in the countryside where they had seen the sea for the first time, discovering that huge cave together which had a giant lake in the middle with enormous, glittering crystals surrounding the whole perimeter of the magnificent lake.
Then, there were the photographs of them getting their Hogwarts letter when they’d turned eleven, the excitement they had felt on getting the confirmation that they were different, the awe when they had visited Diagon Alley for the first time with Professor McGonagall and the excitement when they had discovered that their wands were brothers to each other.
Photographs of seeing the Hogwarts Express, meeting more people and making friends and then, seeing the huge, magical castle of Hogwarts for the first time – there one and only home.
They had been sorted into two different Houses – Harry went to Gryffindor while Tom went to Slytherin – but there had been no gaps in their friendship. It was still going strong and just as amazing and wonderful.
Photographs of their times spent wandering around the castle to search for any hidden corridor or room, roaming around the Great Lake spending time together or meeting creatures in the Forbidden Forest. The time when Tom had finally discovered that he was the descendent of Salazar Slytherin himself, his happiness that he had such a rich history, such a famous ancestor, and the happiness Harry had felt when Tom had taken him into the Chamber of Secrets in their fifth-year, introducing him to the Founder’s familiar – a basilisk, when Tom had shared a part of himself that he considered important and cherished with Harry.
The photograph of every Yule they had celebrated together in the Room of Requirement, the promise that Tom had given Harry that they would be each other’s family forever no matter what and that they will celebrate every Yule together since the festival was for family.
The photograph of the first time they had spent their Yule by performing the ancient magical ritual to thank magic and to feel with the natural magic, and then the time they had spent decorating a Christmas tree that the Room of Requirement had so generously provided them with, with the Yule Log burning warmly behind them.
And the photograph of the memory during Harry’s fourth-year when he had realized for the first time that he was in love with his best friend, that he was in love with Tom Marvolo Riddle.
It had been the first Quidditch match of that year, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. And even though Tom hated the game, loathed the loud noise and the screaming students, he had still come to cheer for Harry, his eyes only fixed on Harry, not even caring that his House’s Team was being thoroughly defeated.
And when Harry had finally caught the snitch, his teammates cheering loudly beside him, when his eyes had locked with Tom’s, sitting straight and poised in the stands and giving him a small smile, then had Harry realized how fucked up he was, how fucked up his situation was as his heart skipped at the beautiful smile on Tom’s stupidly handsome face.
It was not really the problem that he was in love with his best friend. Quite the contrary actually. Harry was happy that of all people to fall in love with, he had fallen for someone he knew the longest, someone about whom he knew as much as any person could know about anyone.
No. The problem was that his love will forever remain unrequited, and that he will never even be able to confess his love to his best friend. Because as far as Harry knew about the Slytherin, Tom saw any feeling such as love a weakness – something unnecessary and beneath him.
Harry had seen and heard about Tom thoroughly and unflinchingly reducing those to tears who had dared to confess their crush to the Head Boy for the past several years, telling them bluntly how they will never become important enough for him to even care for them, let alone return their romantic feelings.
Tom has broken hearts at Hogwarts more than Harry has broken rules (which was saying something, considering Harry was a rule-breaker ranking just after the Weasley twins).
Aside from that, Harry was uncertain on what Tom’s preference even was. Did the guy like females or males or both or had some other preference? Did the Slytherin even think about this? What if he only liked females? What if he already liked someone but wasn’t telling Harry because of some reason?
They had never talked about their romantic interests – Harry because, obviously, he wouldn’t be able to tell Tom he loved him if the topic ever came up and lose the friendship he had with his best friend, and Tom because – Harry was sure – he was too focused on his academics and goals (and keeping Harry out of trouble and in line) to focus on such inane and plebeian topic such as crushes and feelings.
So, Harry, in a bout of geniusness (if he said so himself, though Hermione did beg to differ every time the topic came up), had decided never to tell Tom about his feelings for the Slytherin because! Priorities! Tom and his friendship were more important to Harry than his stupid feelings.
Shaking his head at the dramatic mess of his feelings, Harry flipped through more pages of the album, looking through more photographic memories looping through.
At last, he stopped at encountering a blank page, the bottom of which had the words ‘10 December, seventh year: I finally convinced Tom to play a one-on-one Seeker’s match with me, and the stupid idiot cheated (and then sulked; it was adorable!)’ in Harry’s slightly legible, looping writing.
Harry took the vial he had stored his memory in, took ahold of his wand and started creating the runic chain he had developed specially to create photographic memories just above the page. Once done, he carefully flicked his wand, letting the chain to slowly settle onto the page and get absorbed in, before he tipped the vial and let the memory spread around.
The runic circle glowed, absorbing the memory, and just after a moment, a rectangular photo was created, showing the looping memory of Harry and Tom playing in the Quidditch pitch, chasing after the snitch.
Done with that, Harry spelled preserving and protection spells onto the photo so that it wouldn’t get ruined or destroyed by time, before putting his wand aside and giving out a satisfied sigh. He had finally finished the album – that was the last memory he had that needed to be inscribed in the album. The remaining pages had other comments as well – like ‘24 December, seventh year: our last Yule at Hogwarts; hope we spend the future Yules together as well!’ followed by ‘14 February, seventh year: did Tom manage to break his previous record of getting Valentine presents and courtship offers – the smug bastard’ followed by ‘unknown date, definitely before NEWTs: Harry’s mental break down; I should not be surrounded by brilliant academics like Tom and Hermione; Ron save me!’.
Harry grimaced at his own prediction of a breakdown. He was hoping it wouldn’t happen, but as he had written, surrounded by two competitive, brilliant and studious friends like Tom and Hermione who spent most of their time studying and still fretting over not being ready for the exams, it will definitely result in a breakdown, no matter how much Harry wanted to avoid it.
Sighing at himself, Harry got up from his bed after putting down the album and pulled out his trunk from under his bed to ruffle through his already messy items in search for a green wrapping paper he had brought from Hogsmeade from their last weekend out.
The album was Harry’s gift to Tom for this Yule and Harry was extremely proud of himself for coming up with this idea, he was a genius if he wanted to be (Hermione must not beg to differ here, because Harry would get ginormously offended if she did). He had to put all of his knowledge of Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, spell-casting and Merlin-knows some other subjects he might have unknowingly employed to create the Runic circle he needed to put the memory as a photograph in the album.
It had taken up most of his time this month, making him miss spending time with Tom and his other friends.
But no matter, the gift was finally done now, and he could enjoy this holiday with Tom, since Ron and Hermione were going to their homes this holiday – Hermione because her parents wanted to spend this holiday together with their daughter and Ron because the Weasleys were going to Romania to visit their second eldest son, Charlie Weasley, where he worked in a dragon reserve.
It will be lonely at the Gryffindor common room during the holidays, but Harry was going to spend most of his time with Tom in the Room of Requirement so he wasn’t much worried about it.
Harry grunted when he couldn’t find the damn wrapping paper anywhere in his trunk. Sometimes he wondered whether his trunk had somehow become sentient and knowingly did not let him find his things when he really wanted them.
Cursing the trunk with the wonderful repertoire of curse words that Harry had (and which Tom detested with a passion), Harry slammed its lid shut, deciding to wrap his gift later. He carefully put the album in the drawer at his bedside table before applying a few locking charms on it.
Done with that, he stretched, groaning when some of his bones popped. It had really taken him such a long time and effort to prepare and complete this gift, but it would be worth it when Harry will get to see Tom’s face while the Slytherin opened the gift and looked at it.
Feeling a grin come over his face, Harry laughed softly before he picked up his bag which had his materials to start his homework and decided to go look for Tom or his other friends.
It was a Sunday, the nineteenth of December and the students will be returning to their homes tomorrow for Yule, so Harry wished to spend some of his time with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna as well, since all of them will be leaving the castle soon.
Harry was sure Luna and Ginny would be together somewhere doing their homework or talking about some strange creature Luna had heard about. Neville would definitely be in the greenhouses or maybe spending time with Hannah – both of them had taken a sudden liking to each other out of the blue – and Hermione and Ron would definitely be in the library – Hermione forcing Ron to complete his homework so that he could enjoy his trip in Romania with his family.
And Tom would most definitely be there, in the library as well – that absolute nerd, no matter how much he denied it – reading through some book for his research, only Merlin knowing the matter of the so-called research.
Harry was so lost in his thoughts that he did not realize the student walking in front of him had stopped suddenly and before Harry’s mind could process it, he went and crashed face-first into the back of said student.
“Ouch!”, Harry and the student, whom Harry realized even in his pain-filled daze to be that absolute jerk Malfoy, exclaimed together. Harry stumbled back while Malfoy turned around, his eyes burning with rage.
“How dare you – Potter!”, Malfoy screeched, patting his robe to smooth it and tugging at his hair to feel out how much his perfect, immaculate, ridiculous hair had been ruffled.
“Malfoy.”, Harry returned, thanking Merlin that no one was around to bear witness to their nonsensical inevitable fight with either their wands or their fists again. Even Tom wasn’t here to stop Harry from getting in a punch or ten on that stupid face of Malfoy.
“Do you not have eyes, Potter?!”, Malfoy sneered, his hand unmistakably making its way to his wand strapped on his left forearm. “Or are those hideous glasses not helping you to see clearly?”
“They are working perfectly fine, Malfoy.”, Harry returned, glaring at the blond pounce in front of him. “I should ask you whether your legs are working or not, stopping randomly in the middle of a corridor for no reason!”
“Oh, they are working, Potter.”, Malfoy replied, stepping closer to Harry to tower over him. Harry hated his small stature immensely at this very moment. Malfoy’s sneer twisted and then a very haughty and arrogant smirk came over his face. “Tell me, Potter,” Malfoy started, his eyes glowing with glee – which Harry did not like the look of, at all, “how does it feel to be abandoned by your dear best friend over a Ball, granted that it is the grandest Ball held anywhere in Britain?”
Harry’s face twisted into confusion. “What?”, he asked. “What are you talking about, Malfoy?”
Malfoy’s smirk widened. “Don’t tell me, Potter, that Riddle didn’t even deem to inform you about his change of plans.”
Harry frowned.
“Ah, you poor, poor Potter.”, Malfoy said gleefully. “Riddle really did not tell you!” Malfoy gave Harry a mockingly pitying look. “Dear Riddle has accepted my invitation to the Malfoy Yule Ball, Potter, and he will be going with me tomorrow through the Floo to the Malfoy manor.”
Harry’s heart sank. Was Malfoy making fun of him? Tom hadn’t told him he will be spending this Yule with the Malfoys.
“We will need to go shopping together since the Ball will host Britain’s most important guests – the Minister, several department heads and incredibly rich and powerful magical families.”, Malfoy continued. “The Slytherin’s Heir, Tom Riddle, will of course be welcomed with open arms in the Ball.”
Had Harry mentioned how huge a crush Malfoy had on Tom? He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment, but Harry had started noticing Malfoy trying to get closer to Tom, trying to give Tom suggestive looks and staring at Tom as if….as if Tom was a piece of meat waiting to be claimed by Malfoy’s greedy hands, no matter that Tom would crush and devour the idiot’s hand if it so much as got even an inch closer to Tom’s boundary of personal space (which was larger than an average person’s).
“Seriously, Potter, I do not understand why Tom has been declining my parents’ invitation to the Ball for the past two years when he could go there and easily make connections with the important and influential individuals with nary an effort.” Malfoy eyed Harry with distain. “But then again, there are some…elements in Riddle’s life keeping him away from his true potential, are there not?”
Harry’s heart clenched, but he glared at Malfoy. How dare the bastard suggest such a thing! Harry was not keeping Tom away from his true potential! Tom was already shining even though he was a student only, and he had already made connections without going out to any stupid party!
“Shut up, Malfoy.”, Harry said through gritted teeth.
Malfoy tutted. “Such a waste.”, he muttered. “But do not worry, Potter, I will be there to help Riddle gain his true potential. Once he realizes how worthy I am to have at his side, Riddle will surely discard you,” he sneered, “and take me as his lover.”
Harry gaped, utterly confounded with Malfoy’s gall to say ‘Tom’ and ‘lover’ in a same sentence. “Keep dreaming, Malfoy.”, Harry bit out, ready to kill the bastard after he came out of his momentary astonishment.
“Oh, I won’t be dreaming, Potter.”, Malfoy whispered. “I will be spending my days with Tom,” he took Tom’s name sensually, making Harry shiver with disgust, “in the grand rooms of the manor and the most beautiful gardens. Tom will forget you in just a single day. We will be spending almost two weeks together, and I could think of a dozen ways to pleasure him and make him enjoy-”
Harry couldn’t control the numbing rage coursing through him, trying valiantly not to imagine Tom and Malfoy, of all people, in a romantic relationship.
He punched Malfoy square in his face, breaking the bastard’s high and mighty nose, snarling as Malfoy stumbled back, clutching his nose.
“You d-dare, Potter!”
Harry punched the jerk again. “Don’t. You. Dare! Talk. About. Tom. Like. That.”, Harry punctuated his every word with a punch to the Slytherin’s body, breathing harshly.
“Potter! Oh, Merlin!”
Harry had not realized that Susan Bones and Anthony Goldstein, seventh-year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Prefects respectively, had seen them and were walking over to him and the now-sprawled-out Slytherin before he felt arms wrap around him and pull him away from making Malfoy a pulp.
“Let go!”, Harry shouted as he tried to get back to Malfoy.
Susan was crouching beside the boy who was whimpering and moaning in pain.
Serves him right, Harry thought savagely as Susan waved his wand over the Slytherin and muttered spells to stop the blood flowing from his broken nose and split lips.
“What was that, Potter?”, Anthony, who was still holding Harry back, asked him harshly.
Harry flinched slightly, before muttering, “He provoked me!”
“And what did he say that got you so angry that you beat the living shit out of him?”, Susan asked calmly as she Conjured up a stretcher and Levitated the uselessness that was Malfoy onto it.
“He..he..”, Harry floundered slightly, his brain still numb from all the shit Malfoy had told him, “he said very suggestive things about one of my friends.”
Anthony’s hold on Harry loosened and Susan’s brows furrowed. She looked at Malfoy who seemed to have passed out.
“He really said something like that?”, she asked.
Harry nodded furiously.
“Well…”, Susan trailed off as she looked from Malfoy to Harry to Anthony.
“I do not really like that pounce.”, Anthony helpfully supplied.
“Me neither.”, Susan said with a sigh. “Let’s take him to the infirmary and then inform Professor Flitwick or Professor Sprout. They will surely understand.”
“Yeah.”, Anthony nodded, letting Harry go.
“You, Potter!”, Susan gave Harry a sharp look. “Do not get into any more fight or we won’t be able to save you. Malfoy will surely tell Professor Snape about this.”, she muttered.
Harry winced. Snape will kill him.
“Twenty points from Gryffindor.”, Susan said, before Levitating the stretcher the bastard was lying upon and stalking towards what Harry hoped was the dumping ground for useless things at Hogwarts – like in the middle of the Great Lake.
Harry did not protest the point loss, knowing he would have had worse if Snape had found him showing Malfoy his place.
“Be careful, Harry.”, Anthony said as he stepped away from Harry. The Prefect gave him a pat on the shoulder, before following after Susan.
Harry sighed, running his hand through his hairs. He pulled out his wand to clean his hands off any blood and straightened his robes, before walking the remaining distance and entering the library.
The first people he spotted were Ron and Hermione, sitting on a table with Hermione surrounded by at least a dozen books and Ron grumbling beside her, his pout clearly visible, with a barely-written piece of parchment and a book in front of him.
The red-head visibly perked up when he saw Harry entering the library. “Hey, mate!”, he whisper-shouted, clearly already been threatened to be thrown out by Madam Pince for unnecessarily disturbing the peaceful atmosphere of the library with his unnecessary whining.
“Hey, Ron.”, Harry smiled, trying to bring his enthusiasm while not thinking about Tom accepting the Malfoy Yule Ball invitation. He sat down in front of his friends. “Hey, Hermione! Finishing your work?”
Ron groaned. “Don’t ask, mate.”, he said, clearly annoyed. “Mione’s killing me with her ‘you need to complete all your homework’!”
“Ronald!”, Hermione sighed, clearly as much annoyed as Ron. “How many times do I need to remind you?! You will be going on a vacation to Romania! Do you think you will have enough time to complete your work there?!”
Ron slumped down on the parchment in front of him, spreading the ink.
Harry snickered.
Hermione turned her glare on Harry. “Have you started your homework yet?”, she asked, her eyes narrowing as Harry gave her a sheepish smile.
“I told you, ‘Mione,” Harry started slowly, “I’ve been working on that album I’m gonna gift Tom.”
Hermione opened her mouth, clearly ready to berate Harry to death.
Harry raised his hands in a surrender, trying to calm her down. “It’s done now!”, he said quickly. “I’ve completed it. I’m gonna start my homework now, don’t worry!”
“You better!”, Hermione muttered, her eyes straying to Harry’s hand, before they narrowed again. Quick as lightning, she struck her hand out and grabbed Harry’s. She narrowly observed Harry’s hand, Harry feeling nervous, before slowly raising her head. “Why is there blood inside your nails, Harry?”, she asked slowly.
Harry blinked, his heart stuttering to a stop, before he snatched his hand back and narrowed his eyes at his nails. Sure enough, there were hints of blood stuck under his nails. “Errr….”, Harry stuttered, trying valiantly to come up with something, but drawing an utter blank. Would Hermione believe him if he said he was helping Snape disembowel some bats?
“Harry. James. Potter.”, Hermione began, Ron straightening up beside her in attention. “What were you up to?!”
“Um…..”, Harry hesitated, before slumping down. “It was Malfoy.”, he mumbled.
“What did you do?”, she asked.
“He provoked me.”, Harry said defensively, trying to hide himself behind the table. “So, I kind of…..you know, got angry….and …..uhm..beat him….”
Hermione sighed when Ron guffawed beside her.
“That’s bloody brilliant, mate.”, Ron said, snickering. “I say, he had it coming. He’s become more of a jerk for the past some months, if that’s even possible.”
Harry grumbled, agreeing with Ron.
“What did he say, Harry?”, Hermione asked, resigned.
“He….um…”, Harry hesitated, “..he was….saying some….provoking things….about..about Tom.”
Ron immediately sobered up. “Malfoy had the gall to say something like that about Riddle?”, he whispered.
Harry nodded, looking dejected.
“Well,” Ron and Hermione shared a look, “he’s been trying to make you jealous for a while.”
“You do know Riddle will never go into a romantic relationship with Malfoy of all people, right?”, Hermione asked, slowly, as if she couldn’t believe she had to ask Harry such a question.
“Yeah, mate.”, Ron nodded emphatically. “Riddle might be a pompous arsehole,” Harry glared at Ron, “but he’s got a very particular, very accurate type.”
Harry blinked, frowning at Ron. “You think Tom’s got a type?”, he asked confusedly. He didn’t know Tom had a type. How can Ron say that when Harry himself couldn’t figure that out?
Ron and Hermione exchanged another look. Harry found it both sweet and annoying.
Ron shrugged.
Hermione muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘obvious’.
What?
Harry looked at them with confusion, wondering how they could find Tom, of all people, obvious. “You guys know something and you aren’t telling me!”, he accused, pointing a finger at them.
“It’s nothing, Harry.”, Hermione said, clearly dismissing him in favour of her homework. “You can figure it out on your own if you use that ‘geniusness’ you claim you have somewhere in that mind of yours.”
“Hey!”, Harry was offended. “I am a genius!”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
Harry opened his mouth to prove his case when he was interrupted by none other than the Slytherin Head Boy.
“Harry, there you are.”
“Tom!”, Harry turned around, spotting Tom entering the library and making his way over. “Hey! How are you doing?”
“Fine.”, Tom answered, eyeing Ron and Hermione before turning back to look at Harry. He sighed minutely, a barely-there release of breath. “Did you had something to do with Malfoy lying in the hospital wing and claiming brutal assault by you?”
Harry furrowed his brows and tried to adopt as innocent an expression as he could. “What brutal assault?”, he asked innocently, subtly stuffing his hands in his robe pockets. “I’ve been here, chatting with Ron and Hermione for a while.”
Tom scanned his face, his face blank, before sighing. “Why did you had to go along and physically injure that boy, I do not understand.”, he probably muttered to himself, yet Harry heard him. He frowned slightly, now wondering whether there really were chances of Tom and Malfoy being in a relationship and felt himself get nauseous. Now that he thought about it, Tom really did protect Malfoy every time the git provoked Harry, by stopping Harry from hexing the blonde straight to the Hospital wing.
“Nevertheless,” Tom remarked, continuing, and Harry tried to concentrate more on his best friend than on the possible motives behind said best friend’s protectiveness over a certain blonde bastard, “just clean up your hands and make your expression more confused.”, he said. “I will take care of the rest.”
Harry smiled slightly at Tom, while Ron snorted and Hermione sighed yet again.
“I am thoroughly confused, Tom.”, Harry said smugly, pushing his thoughts away to contemplate on later.
“I can see that.”, Tom said back. He began walking deeper into the library.
Harry waved goodbye to Hermione and Ron, who waved back, before following after his best friend.
Tom had a very particular table at the very back of the library claimed as his, and only Harry was allowed to sit there with him.
Tom sat down on his chair, the table already filled with numerous books on Runes and Arithmancy.
Harry sat down in front of Tom as well, eyeing a parchment filled with Tom’s hand writing, his brows furrowing as he deciphered through the Runes Tom had weaved together. Was that Preservation Rune combined with Warming and Cooling Runes and Charms? What was Tom up to?
“What are you doing with these Runes?”, Harry asked curiously, looking up at Tom who was already opening two books in front of him, his brows furrowing in confusion.
“I cannot tell you that yet, Harry.”, Tom replied, flipping through one of the books.
“What about a hint?”, Harry asked.
“No.”
Harry groaned, before he frowned. “Does this have something to do with the invitation to the Malfoy Ball?”, he asked slowly, watching as Tom stiffened slightly. “Preparing your robes to make sure no one can find any flaw in it?”, Harry wiggled his eyebrows.
Tom frowned at Harry. “I haven’t yet told you about the Yule Ball.”, he said. “Who told you?”
Harry huffed. “Malfoy.”, he muttered.
“That upset you enough to send him into the hospital wing?”
“It wasn’t that.”, Harry crossed his hands across his chest, leaning back in his chair, his nose up in the air in annoyance at Tom’s protectiveness over Malfoy. What the fuck! “He was saying something I do not tolerate.”, he said vaguely. “And that is not the point. When were you going to tell me you are going to the Ball?”
Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That insufferable idiot.”, he muttered under his breath, before looking at Harry who was trying to figure out whether there was genuine annoyance at Malfoy or actual fondness hidden in there somewhere. “I wished to tell you yesterday when I accepted the invitation but you did not get out of your dorms. And you were not present in the Great Hall either this morning, stuffed away in your dorm, Salazar-knows doing what.”
Harry huffed. “I was researching.”, he said.
Tom raised his eyebrow. “And what, pray tell, were you researching on?”, he asked, looking as if he was only humouring Harry.
“I can’t tell you that yet, Tom.”, Harry threw Tom’s words back at the guy.
Tom sighed. “You are being childish, Harry.”, he said.
Harry huffed yet again, not deigning that insult with any response. Was Malfoy actually important to Tom and Tom wasn’t telling Harry because he knew Harry did not like that git?
Well, Harry couldn’t really do anything if Tom actually….Harry felt bile rising through his throat as he thought about this. But couldn’t Tom had chosen someone better? Maybe Zabini, that guy wasn’t a jerk to others at least.
“That aside,” Tom continued when it became clear Harry wouldn’t be saying anything, “you do not mind me going to this Ball, right?” Tom hesitated. “It will be a wonderful opportunity to introduce myself to a wider circle of Wizengamot members, Ministry employees, the Minister and the head of Ministry Departments before I take the mantle of Lord Slytherin. And it will pave the way for me to create a good image of myself in front of all those attending the Ball.”
Harry sighed, biting his lips. He couldn’t just tell Tom he wanted to spend this last Yule with him, could he? It would be entirely selfish of him to ask Tom to stay at Hogwarts this last Yule, with Harry, when his best friend wanted to start working on his goals, and maybe spend time with Malfoy?
Harry’s heart clenched painfully.
Seriously he would have been fine with anyone except Malfoy!
Harry really wished they could celebrate Yule together. He didn’t know if they will even get a chance to meet once after they graduated from Hogwarts, what with Tom going to work either as a Wizengamot member or getting the job as the Undersecretary of the Minister.
Will Tom even want to meet Harry after graduation?
They might be friends, but Harry wasn’t useful to Tom in any way when concerning his ambitions.
Sure, Harry was thinking about getting a Mastery in Runes and Arithmancy or Defence, but that wouldn’t be useful in the field of politics. And Harry only had the claim to Potter Lordship, which did not have any seat in the Wizengamot since the Potters weren’t politically active for the last several centuries. And the Potter Lordship paled in front of the Slytherin Lordship, or say, Malfoy Lordship, and Malfoy was interested in politics and was a Slytherin.
“Harry?”, Tom called, pulling Harry out of his thoughts.
Harry shook his head, before giving Tom a smile. “Yeah, Tom?”, he asked.
“Do you have any problem with me going to the Yule Ball?”, Tom asked again.
Harry shook his head again. “Of course not.”, he replied. “Why would I have any problem?”
Tom briefly stared at Harry before nodding. “I will need to go with Malfoy tomorrow using the Floo.”, he told Harry. “I was thinking, why don’t you ask Weasley to take you to his home? I presume he is going, what with all the amount of work Granger is forcing him to complete.”
Harry chuckled half-heartedly, deciding not to tell Tom where exactly Ron was going with his family this year. “Yeah.”, he muttered, scratching his cheeks. “Yeah, I will ask him.”
This will be a very lonely Yule.
------------
Harry stood outside Hogwarts, waving goodbye to his friends who were getting into the thestral-drawn carriages to catch the Hogwarts Express.
Tom and Malfoy had already Floo’d away, barely fifteen minutes ago from Snape’s office – who hadn’t stopped glaring at Harry until he’d hastily ran out of said office after Tom and a smirking Malfoy had gone away.
This will really be a very boring Yule. Harry did not know what he would do except decorate in the Room of Requirement and then do his homework. He might go into the Forbidden Forest to explore, but it will be a completely different experience without Tom there to give his random speeches about anything and everything.
Harry sighed, turning around when the last of the carriages had gone out of sight, blinking when he came face-to-face with Luna, who was looking at him with a dreamy look on her face.
“Luna!”, Harry exclaimed, furrowing his brows. “Did you forget something? You need to get to the station fast or you might miss the train.”
“No, Harry.”, Luna said softly, her voice, as usual, dreamy. “I am not going to home this year.”
“Why?”, Harry asked, confused. Luna spent every Yule with her father in their home at Ottery St Catchpole, just a few miles away from the Burrow.
“Daddy went to search for Umgubular Slashkilter this year.”, she replied. “They are rather nasty creatures, cause unimaginary anger and pain, so daddy told me to stay at Hogwarts this year. Besides,” she smiled at Harry, “I think you need me more than daddy. You have a very large group of wrackspurts roaming around your head.”
Harry smiled slightly at Luna, shaking his head. “I am grateful for your company, Luna.”, he said. “Are you the only Ravenclaw staying over?”
“No.”, Luna answered, taking Harry’s hand and guiding him back into the castle. “There are several NEWT and OWL year students staying over.”
“Ah, of course.”, Harry laughed softly. “Crazy Ravenclaws and their studying.”
Luna smiled beside him.
They entered the Great Hall together. It was time for dinner, with the Ravenclaw table occupied the most and the Slytherin table occupied the least – no Slytherin student had stayed over this year.
Harry smiled sadly as he gazed at the Slytherin table. He sat with Tom every year during the holidays when almost all the Slytherins went home, Tom too proud to sit at any other table with any other student.
This really would have been the last year for their everything.
Harry was sure Tom and he will separate once they graduated.
Tom will find a perfect job, he will become the Minister of Magic one day, and marry someone perfect like him – maybe someone who will have some title at the Wizengamot or who would come from an old and prestigious pureblood family, like that bloody Malfoy. They will marry and have perfect kids – could males become pregnant? – a very perfectly valid question when he was living in a magical world – and love each other for the rest of their lives.
Will Tom invite Harry to the wedding? Will Harry get to be Tom’s best man? Will Tom choose him to be his child’s godfather?
Will Tom even remember him?
Harry’s heart squeezed tightly and he swallowed to get rid of the lump in his throat.
Harry really hoped he and Tom would at least be friends for the remainder of their lives.
“Harry?”
Harry blinked at Luna sitting beside him, before realizing they were sitting on the Hufflepuff table with Susan and Hannah sitting in front of them, looking at him with concern.
“Huh?”, he asked.
“I was asking what you will do after NEWTs, Harry?”, Susan asked, probably repeating her question a third or a fourth time.
“Umm…”, Harry tried to focus on the conversation instead of wallowing in self-pity, “well, I was thinking about applying for a Mastery in Defence or Runes and Arithmancy.”
“Oh, wow.”, Hannah muttered, exchanging an awed look with Susan. “I thought you will go into Ministry as an Auror or something.”
Harry shot her a confused look.
“It isn’t necessary for Harry to follow in his father’s footsteps.”, Luna said serenely, taking a spoonful of vegies.
“Right.”, Hannah gave Harry an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Harry.”
Harry waved it away. “It’s alright.”, he said. “What will you two do after the exams?”
“Well,” Hannah hesitated slightly before shrugging, “I was thinking about going into Healing, but Madam Pomphrey keeps on rejecting my pleas to take me in as her apprentice.”
“Oh.”, Harry nodded sagely. “Madam Pomphrey’s very stubborn.”
“You would know about her stubbornness, wouldn’t you?”, Susan teased, taking a second serving of roasted chicken with mashed potatoes. Harry jerked when Luna nudged his sides, nodding at his plate.
Harry mumbled some nonsensical gibberish under his breath, offended at his friends pointing out his unchallenged record of ending up in the hospital wing more than healthy, before starting to eat.
His companions laughed.
“I am going to apply for getting into the Auror program.”, Susan told them, eating mashed potatoes. “My parents wished for me to go into Mastery in Charms but I’m rather interested in Aunt Amelia’s work.”
“That’s nice.”, Harry nodded.
“What about you, Luna?”, Hannah asked.
Luna smiled. “Magizoology.”, she answered.
“I am so not surprised to hear which field you want to go in, Luna.”, Susan remarked with a smile.
Harry nodded. “It’s a nice field too.”, he said. “You get to travel around the whole world and meet so many unique and dangerous creatures.”, he raised his eyebrows at Luna. “I bet you will go looking for Nargles and Heliopaths once you complete your studies.”
Luna smiled. “There are more unidentified creatures than those, Harry.”, she said. “Have you heard about the Moon Frogs?”
“Um,” Harry looked at Susan and Hannah, both of whom looked equally confused, “no, Luna.”
“I imagined you wouldn’t.”, Luna said softly. “They are found on the Moon. They have this soft, glowing body, they can float, and they are believed to be able to remove obliviousness.”
Harry blinked when Susan and Hannah simultaneously snorted. He looked from Luna to them, unable to understand what she’d said that was so funny to those two.
“You want to find them then?”, he asked. “You will need to sign for muggle space program, Luna.”
“I would do anything for you, Harry.”
“Er, um, thanks?”, Harry tried, ignoring the silent laughing the other two of his companions were engaging in. He leaned towards Luna. “What is wrong with them?”
“Nothing, Harry.”, Luna smiled at him. “They’ve only got a small infestation of Nargles around them.”
“Oh.”, Harry muttered eyeing the still giggling girls, before shrugging and serving himself some treacle tart.
------
Harry spent the night of the twenty-first of December – the actual night when Yule rituals are done, mostly with family – in the Room of Requirement with Luna. They carved the runic circle for the ritual together, before engaging in the ritual itself, which required a drop of their blood dropped into the warmly burning Yule log, and a variety of food choices as an offering to Magic.
Harry had been sad, missing Tom immensely – they had spent their last five years doing this ritual together – and thinking how it might be almost impossible in the future for him and Tom to spend their Yules together.
Luna had been helpful, in her own way, to make Harry stop thinking such depressing thoughts, and they’d decorated the Christmas tree together as well, giggling like little girls as they decorated it with glittering balls, stars, fairy lights and strung-up popcorn, which Luna had somehow gotten from the elves by convincing them to pop corns.
On the twenty-third and twenty-fourth of December, Harry and Luna, joined by Susan and Hannah and several other remaining students, had started a snow-ball fight, in which a first-year Hufflepuff student had somehow thoroughly defeated everyone.
Harry and Luna had also gone into the Forbidden Forest and they’d met thestrals. Harry was undoubtedly confused on how he could see them, but then had thought that maybe his subconscious mind still remembered how his parents had been killed, right in front of him.
But try as he might, Harry could not get the hurt and loneliness that he felt when he would return back into the Gryffindor common room and into his dorm out of his mind. Most of his nights for the past few days were spent restlessly tossing and turning around, the nightmares of Tom leaving him behind not letting him sleep.
So, on the morning of the twenty-fifth of December, Harry woke up bleary eyed, with a headache pounding through his head and feeling like he had been awakened from the dead. He could really use a vial or ten of some Dreamless Sleep Potion right about now.
As Harry rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up his half-dead mind, he glanced around his empty dorm, shivering slightly at the cold breeze fluttering through the slightly open window.
He was just thinking about screwing eating his breakfast and just returning back to his no doubt future unsuccessful slumber, when his eyes landed on a miniature heap of what he thought were gifts waiting for him on the end of his bed. He blinked, realizing that he did had friends with whom he exchanged gifts.
Smiling softly, he picked up his glasses from his bedside table, before arranging his quilts around him in a burrito with only his hands and head poking out of it, and shuffled over to his wonderful pile of presents.
The first gift was from Hermione – a book, of course – that was an in-depth analysis of advanced runic designs and circles, along with a letter telling him to complete his remaining work. The next one was from Ron, a small heap of sweets, with Mrs. Weasley’s signature green sweater – which Harry immediately put on, sighing at the warmth it gave off – along with her home-made fudge.
The next gift was from Ginny – a bracelet that she’d found while browsing randomly in Hogsmeade. It had a silver chain with a green stone attached to it, which according to Ginny, went well with Harry’s emerald eyes and satisfied one particular git’s ego – the last statement in her letter making Harry more confused than anything.
Luna had given him a necklace made of some kind of pale stone, which she said were a substitute for the Moon Frogs until she could find them. Harry rolled his eyes at her antics, deciding to keep the necklace in his drawer for now. He will wear it once he got enough motivation to leave his bed.
Neville had given him a small plant with the instructions on how to take care of it and that it would bear one single flower every week, its colour depending on the plant’s mood. Harry was, of course, impressed at his friend’s ability to find out such type of plants.
The Weasley twins had also sent him their gifts, a box of their latest pranking items along with some vials of pale red liquid, stating that these gave the drinker very relaxed and loose mind, and that Harry should try it sometime, stating in braces that they will be really happy if he tried it with Tom in the Room of Requirement. Harry was not sure why they wanted him to relax with those vials around Tom when he was relaxed whenever Tom was with him or how much he could trust the twins, but he will give them a chance since they’d never actually lied to him about any of their items.
Granted, Harry had a share in their business, but still.
The last gift was from Tom, wrapped in a silver paper with Harry’s name written on it in Tom’s beautiful cursive.
Harry gulped down the lump that he felt forming in his throat, before carefully picking up the gift and running his hand through Tom’s words and the soft wrapping paper.
Tom hadn’t forgotten about Harry.
Harry smiled, a wet grin appearing on his face. He carefully began pulling the wrapper open, his eyes widening when a green scarf with an image of a snake wrapped around a lion on one of its side fell on his lap.
He carefully touched the scarf, feeling its softness along with Tom’s recognizable magic lacing through the whole fabric.
Harry looked through the scarf and eventually found the runes carefully and meticulously etched into every thread of the scarf. And they were the same runes Harry had seen Tom writing down in his parchment just a few days ago – the Warming and Cooling Runes, the Preservation Rune, along with some combination of runes which would keep the scarf soft as long as possible, detect the weather around Harry to keep either warm or cold and make the snake and the lion animated.
Harry scrunched his face, watching the snake and the lion hiss and roar respectively, before chasing after each other. He tried to blink back tears as he pulled the scarf close to his chest and sniffled. Tom must have spent so much of his time creating this scarf just for Harry! How much time had Tom wasted to make this when he could have used that time to do his studying or forged his connections with important people?
Harry sniffled again, and wrapped Tom’s gift around his neck, burrowing his face into the soft fabric, sighing contentedly. He would savour Tom’s gift as much as he physically could, and will thank Tom when he will return from that stupid Ball.
Deciding that he couldn’t do more emotional than this, Harry took out the vials the twins had gifted him. He could use a good sleep right about now, and he had already eaten several of the sweets and fudge the Weasleys had sent him.
Thus, he unstoppered one of the vials, sniffed it, smiling when he found it smelled like apple juice, before tossing it in one go.
Harry pulled out his glasses, keeping them on his table, along with the gifts and the wrapping papers, before shuffling around in his bed to get into a comfortable lying position.
Once settled, he felt the potion-slash-liquid taking effect and he yawned, snuggling into the warm scarf his Tom had made for him.
He still couldn’t believe Tom had actually spent his time knitting a scarf for him of all people, and Harry giggled as he imagined Tom sitting in one of the armchairs in the Slytherin common room with needles and a ball of yarn, calmly knitting a scarf, while glaring at anyone and anything which stared at him in astonishment for even a second.
Harry really loved his Tom very much.