Archive of Our Own

The world around him was pitch black. Blearily, Harry reached up and rubbed at his eyes. It was as if he was underwater, submerged thousands of feet down. His movements were weak and sluggish, slowed by the thick atmosphere surrounding him. Was he underwater? He couldn’t tell. 

Parting his lips, Harry waited to see if water would spill down his throat, drowning him. Yet, nothing happened. “Harry, please.” His fingertips tingled as the distant voice reached him. It was muddled and quiet, distorted by the world around them. “I need you.” 

Struggling, Harry waved his arms back and forth, attempting to swim. “Come back to me.” He could feel a warmth wrapping around his wrist. Harry stared down at his flesh. He couldn’t…there was nothing there. The strange warmth then grew hotter, fiercer. 

Suddenly, he was being touched elsewhere. He could feel a finger trailing down his throat, then tilting his head backwards. “Look at me.” Red eyes stared down at him, unblinking and cold. The creature then smirked, its white teeth gleaming unnaturally. The finger, which now seemed far too long, dug into his flesh. “Look at me.”

Panic coursed through him. He wasn’t supposed to be here. This wasn’t right. He was—

“Harry Potter.”

Light then blinded Harry as he lurched forward, gasping. He was sitting in what looked to be a hospital bed. The room was painted a pastel blue, filled with white furniture.

Then, before he could properly orient himself, arms were wrapping around him, squeezing him. “You’re awake! You had me so worried. Are you alright? How are you feeling?” The touch felt familiar, comforting. Happily, Harry sunk into the embrace, absorbing the other person’s warmth.

Yes, he knew them. He knew them, and they were safe. The touch was unlike the one from his dream. 

“Harry,” The person pulled away, “what were you thinking?” Finally, he got his first good look at his bedside companion. The man was young. He didn’t look like he was older than twenty two. He had black hair, pale skin, and brown eyes that were wide in concern. The man was… unreal. He was devastatingly handsome, too handsome.

Harry swallowed nervously. “I-I’m sorry but I don’t…I don’t really know how I ended up here? What happened to me?”

The man froze. “What do you mean you don’t remember?” There was a fire building in the man’s gaze. Harry could see the stranger clenching and unclenching his fists, his lips twitching.

“I brought you here as soon as I could.” His voice was cold. The man's gaze then snapped towards Harry, his features straining as he breathed harder and harder. “What do you remember?”

Harry shook his head, bewildered. “I don’t… nothing?”

The man breathed in sharply. A loud screech then pierced through the air as the man stood up, his chair sliding backwards. “I’m going to talk to the mediwizard who examined you.” His voice was shaking.

Harry nervously reached towards the stranger, unsure. “Wait. Can you please,” Harry shuddered, “can you please just tell me what happened to me? How did I end up here?” 

The man stared down at Harry quietly, still tense. He looked like a snake readying to strike. A predator.

Harry shifted in place.

The stranger’s eyes slowly softened, filling with affection. Sighing, the man leaned into Harry’s space, creeping closer. 

“You tried to save a group of muggle children from a collapsing building. You’re always being reckless. It’s just what you do.” His eyes then narrowed. “You tried to save them, even after I told you not to. It was dangerous!”

A flush crept into the man’s cheeks as he hissed angrily, clearly unsettled. “You’re not allowed to do that again. I won’t allow it. I’ll find a way to restrain you. Then you—”

Harry’s lips twitched downward as the man berated him. Yeah, sure. If this man thought he could control him, then he—

Wait.

“What is your name? How do you and I know each other?” The man’s face stilled. “It’s just that I recognize you. I know that I know you, but I don’t…I can’t remember.”

There were no emotions on the man’s face. It was as if he had completely shut down. 

“You don’t recognize me?”

Harry shook his head.

“You don’t know my name? You’ve lost that much?”

Harry glanced down at his hands, his heart beating nervously. He could see the man faintly trembling. Yet, just as Harry was about to reach over and comfort his companion, a spark entered the man’s eyes. Just like that, he looked alive again, his face strangely flushed. 

“We’re very close, you and I.” The man murmured, his gaze soft. “We own a flat together in London. We’re partners.” Reaching forward, the man grabbed Harry’s hands, gripping them reassuringly. “We’re dating.”

Harry instantly blushed. They… they were—

“Oh,” Harry coughed, his body tingling, “I—that’s cool. Cool, cool. How long have we, you know, been together?”

A wide grin stretched across the man’s face as he laughed happily. “Years now, Harry.”

Oh, wow. 

“And my name,” The stranger breathed, his body shaking, “it’s Tom Riddle.” 

Tom Riddle. The name sounded familiar. Heat curled in Harry’s chest as he thought of the name. It was the name of someone who he wanted to protect, someone he cared for.

Blushing, Harry squeezed Tom’s hands back. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. Should we call the mediwizard in here?”

Tom’s thumb stroked the back of Harry’s hand. “Don’t you worry about that. I’ll take care of it. Just stay here.” 

Tom nervously leaned in closer, his eyes wide and unsure. Tentatively, the young man kissed his cheek, his lips lingering. His nerves were sparking with electricity, his heart racing.

Breathlessly, Harry touched his cheek as Tom pulled away, looking equally as flustered. Harry was engulfed in a pleasant warmth. Laughing awkwardly, Harry glanced down at his hands. “Get back here fast, okay?”

Tom’s throat bobbed, his eyes sharpening. “Oh, I will. We’re going home tonight.” The man then left the hospital room, leaving Harry with a thousand questions, and a rapidly beating heart. 

***

According to what Tom told him, Harry had temporary amnesia. The mediwizards didn’t know when Harry would regain his memories and at what pace he would receive them. He could regain all of his memories in a week or in six months. He might receive his memories one at a time or all at once. No one was sure. 

Thankfully, Harry still retained a basic understanding of the world. He knew that he was a wizard, that magic was real, and that he attended Hogwarts. Tom didn’t have to explain what countries or commerce were either. Harry remembered his favourite dessert and drink, treacle tart and butter beer, and many more things.

He just… didn’t remember the people he had in his life. His friends and family. His boyfriend. 

Blushing, Harry glanced up at Tom as the man unlocked the door to their flat. “Welcome home, Harry.” Tom smiled, pushing him forwards.

A laugh spilled past Harry’s lips as he took in their flat. Their entire place looked like a Christmas commercial. Everything was either red and gold or green and silver. The colours clashed together tackily. Harry couldn't help but snicker. 

Tom then chuckled alongside him, rolling his eyes. “I know, I know. It’s awful. I’ve tried so many times to get you to ditch the red and gold. You’re stubborn, though.” Tom smiled, his eyes crinkling.

Harry grinned up at him. “Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s really the silver and green that’s overdone. It looks overly posh. Why should I have to get rid of my stuff anyway, though?”

Unimpressed, Tom stared down at him. “You only started buying the red and gold when I started showing an interest in silver and green decor. You did it on purpose. You’re hilarious.”

Smiling warmly, Harry reached up and ran his fingers through Tom’s hair. This felt natural. Right. He could see the two of them in this flat, bickering back and forth for hours. They would cuddle on their sofa, making nothing but sly remarks.

“Can you give me a tour of the rest of our flat?” Harry asked, his hand sliding down to cup Tom’s cheek. Tom just stared at him. His eyes were comically wide. Was he usually not this affectionate? 

Embarrassed, Harry moved to pull his hand away. Tom then grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “Yes, I can give you a tour. I’ll be very informative.” The wizard tilted Harry’s wrist towards him. Gently, Tom kissed the inside of his wrist, his lips parting open.

Oh.

Harry’s breathing sharpened. All he could focus on was Tom. Tom. The way his eyelashes moved. The sound of his breathing. Tom glanced at him, his gaze warm and clouded. Harry trembled. 

“Where do you want me to take you first?” Tom murmured into his flesh.

“W-What?” Harry croaked, his cheeks darkening.

Tom smirked. “For your tour, Harry. Where do you want to go first?” Like a predator, Tom advanced upon him, his grin sharp. “What do you think I meant?” 

Thinking rapidly, Harry placed his other hand against Tom’s chest, pushing him back. “How many rooms do we even have in our flat? It seems small.” 

“We have a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. Now, where—”

Wait. 

Harry’s eyes then narrowed as he stared at Tom in confusion. “Why do we have separate bedrooms? Wouldn’t it be easier and cheaper to stay in a flat with only one?” Tom stilled. Blinking, Harry continued to stare at his boyfriend in confusion. 

Cooly, Tom replied. “Sometimes, we like to have our own spaces to stay in, to make our own. We both value our privacy and space.”

Harry relaxed. “Do we sleep together at night?”

“Usually, yes. Now, then,” Tom breathed, “let’s commence with the tour. I’m sure you’re eager to familiarize yourself with our home again.” Tom then led Harry through their flat, his arm wrapped around his waist. 

Harry had a feeling everything was going to work out.

He just knew it.

***

Humming quietly, Harry looked down at the pancakes he was cooking, flipping one over. It had now been a week since he had lost his memories. It seemed that he and Tom spent most of their time in their flat, hanging out with one another. Occasionally, they would go outside to a local muggle store to buy some groceries, but that was it. Harry didn’t have a job while Tom did. Tom worked in the Ministry in some position he rarely talked about. 

Harry was a little bit confused about how he contributed to their household when he didn’t earn a steady income, but Tom told him he paid for his fair share. Most disconcertingly, Harry’s own features confused him. He now knew that Tom was twenty years old.

Harry looked like he couldn’t be older than seventeen, however. Tom reassured him that he was twenty as well, but his features didn’t—

Quietly, Harry touched his face, feeling its smoothness. Even the year they lived in unsettled him. Every time they went outside, the muggle street cars and fashion boggled his mind. Now, that did concern Tom. He didn’t understand why Harry found the outside world stressful when he previously hadn’t. 

Picking up the frying pan, Harry deposited the fourth pancake onto a side plate. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to live in confusion for much longer. Hopefully, his memories would return to him soon.

“Harry? You made breakfast?” Tom then entered their kitchen, his hair slightly disheveled and his face tired. Upon seeing Harry, a pleased grin stretched across his face. “I’m surprised that you got up so early. You’re usually the one sleeping in.”

Humming in agreement, Harry leaned back against their counter. “I wanted to make something. I think I’ve always enjoyed cooking. It’s a nice distraction.”

Tom’s face darkened. “I think you picked that up from your relatives.”

Then, before Harry could ask Tom about his relatives, Tom stepped closer, his face relaxing. “Thank you for cooking, Harry,” Tom smiled. “I appreciate it.” The wizard crept closer. Confidently, Tom slid his leg in between Harry’s thighs. His arms moved to cage him in. “I can’t wait to eat.”

He could hear his heart beating in his chest. With a strained laugh, Harry placed both his hands on Tom’s chest. “I made more than enough for the two of us.” His body felt hot. He glanced at Tom’s lips, feeling both elated and sick.

Tom had already kissed him a few times as of now. They often kissed throughout the day. Still, Harry felt nervous and excited every time. 

It shocked him that Tom wanted him, needed him. The feeling of their bodies touching, it overwhelmed him. It felt both right and wrong. Something he needed and something terrible. Tom dragged his fingers through Harry’s hair.

“Harry.” Tom’s grip tightened, and he yanked Harry’s head up. As he hissed in slight pain, Tom leaned in and kissed him.

His lips were soft. Shuddering, Harry tugged on the collar of Tom’s shirt, pulling the fabric down. A warmth was spreading throughout his body. He felt hot. Tingly. Small gasps slipped past his lips as Tom pushed him against the counter. Murmuring unintelligibly, Harry bit down on Tom’s bottom lip. 

Instantly, Tom grew more heated. Yanking on Harry’s curls, Tom tilted his head back, exposing his neck.

“Mhmnn.” Harry mumbled, dazed. He felt like he was melting. He felt warm and safe. Heat then coursed through him as Tom pressed wet kisses to his neck. Sharp teeth grazed his collar bones, keeping him on edge.

“Harry,” Tom stared up at him, his gaze fervent, “Harry. You’re not allowed to leave me. I won’t let you.” His tongue slipped out, gliding along his flesh. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

He wanted to deny him. Harry didn’t belong to anyone. He was his own person. His life was his own. Yet, just as Harry parted his lips, intent on saying no, a moan fell past instead. Tom was grinding his thigh into Harry, generating friction between them.

Groaning, Harry threw his head back. It felt good. Tom felt so good. Mindlessly, Harry rocked back onto Tom’s thigh, welcoming the sensation. 

“Good boy,” Tom hissed into his neck, pressing another kiss. Harry wanted to narrow his eyes, to tell Tom off. He wasn’t a—that. Instead, he tugged on Tom’s collar, eager and confused.

Leaning up, Tom kissed Harry once more, slipping his tongue inside. His body trembled as he struggled to keep up. Goosebumps broke out across his flesh as he writhed in Tom’s grasp. 

“Tell me,” Tom moaned into his mouth, “tell me that you want me, Harry. Tell me that you need me. You’re mine. Tell me.”

Nervous, Harry tried to turn his head away. It was too much. Tom followed him, however, his lips persistent. “Tell me, Harry.” Tom bit his lip. “Tell me.”

Shaking, Harry pushed his tongue into Tom’s mouth, seeking his warmth. “I want you. I need you.” Harry shivered. “I’m yours. I’m all yours, Tom.” A snap then rang through the kitchen as Tom broke Harry’s belt, pushing his hand down his trousers.

“Tell me more, Harry. Tell me that you belong to me.”

Breathless moans filled the kitchen space as Harry told Tom everything he wanted to hear. “I’m yours, Tom. Only yours. I belong to you.”

By the time the two of them had finished, the pancakes had gone cold. Cold and forgotten. 

***

He was underwater again. Curious, Harry waved his hand back and forth, noticing the sluggishness of his actions. He could barely move. The water was thick, weighing him down. He couldn’t discern his surroundings either. Everything was pitch black. 

Tilting his head back, Harry resolved to see if he could rest in his dream. Could he dream inside of a dream? Could he sleep?

Closing his eyes, Harry tried to relax. He could imagine Tom’s arms wrapping around him, keeping him warm. The two of them slept together in the man’s bedroom every night. If he could just picture that….

Two hands gripped Harry’s waist, pulling him back into a hard chest. “Harry.” His eyes opened. “You’re mine, Harry Potter.”

Dread rushed through him. The same red eyes were staring down at him, sharp and dangerous.

“You can’t escape me, Harry Potter.” The creature leaned down, its teeth on display. “You can’t do anything.” Tensing, Harry prepared himself to punch the abomination, to swim away as well as he could.

However, just as Harry clenched his fist, the creature kissed his forehead sweetly, its lips lingering. 

Harry awoke. 

“Wha—” Harry breathed, his gaze unfocused. His body was tingling with pleasure, warm and pliant.

Tom was looming above him, a pleased look on his face. “Harry, you’re awake.”

He nodded, still bewildered on what was happening. Gently, Tom dragged his fingers through Harry’s curls, then cupping his cheek. His breath stuttered. Cautiously, he leaned into Tom’s palm. 

A smile then formed on Tom’s face, and the man was—oh. Tom let go of Harry’s cheek, instead choosing to wrap his hand around Harry’s already exposed cock. The heat that had already been present in him then burned brighter, as Tom dragged his hand up and down.

“You prat,” Harry whispered, his hips arching, “you’re the worst. Hngh.” Heat coiled in his navel as Tom took his time, acting slowly. He could see pre-cum dripping down his length, his cock twitching. 

Suddenly, Tom removed his hand, and a frustrated groan bubbled forth from his throat. Chuckling, Tom looked down at him, annoyingly smug.

“Don’t worry,” Tom flipped him over, “I won’t leave you wanting.” Grabbing his hips, Tom pulled Harry’s waist up, pressing them against one another.  He could feel something distinctly hard pressing against the bottom of his back.

Oh, wow. Tom felt big. Nervous, Harry buried his face into their sheets, pressing his chest against the mattress. 

He could hear Tom whispering to himself. Then, without warning, slickness bloomed inside of him, leaving him wet. Jolting, Harry hissed as he found the sensation unsettling. Tom just laughed, however.

“Come on, Harry,” The man smirked, “it’s not that bad.”

Angrily, Harry glared back at his boyfriend. “Yeah, sure. It feels like you squirted an entire bottle of lotion inside of me.”

Grinning, Tom tugged Harry back towards him, his grip around his hips tight. “Here, let me make it up to you.”

Harry’s eyes widened. He could feel a finger pushing inside of him, then another one. Panting, Harry rolled his hips back. He felt hot and uncomfortable. The sensation was strange. “Fuck,” Harry breathed, twitching, “it’s too much. I-I can’t—”

Oh.

Pleasure sparked through his body as Tom curled his fingers just right. “There we go,” Tom chuckled. The man sounded just as breathless as him. 

Harry spread his legs further apart, his hips arching up. Adrenaline was pulsing through his veins, edging him on. He wanted to… to— 

“Hngh!” Harry hissed as a third finger entered him. The man was driving his fingers deeper and deeper inside of him, stretching him full. Pre-cum spilled past his slit, staining the sheets.

Moaning, Harry rode back against Tom’s hand. “I want to—ngh! Now! Please, Tom. I want you. I want you so much.” The fingers slipped out of him. 

Tom tightened his grip around Harry’s hips before pushing himself in. Harry’s thighs trembled. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. The heat. It was burning him from the inside, scorching in its intensity. He wanted to arch his hips, to rock back.

Tom stopped. “There we go. We’re good.” He could feel Tom’s pelvis pressed against him. The man felt large. Suddenly, Tom gripped his thighs, squeezing them. “Harry, you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this. Fantasied over this.”

He moved his hips forward. “You’re mine. Completely mine. No one is ever going to see you like this.” Tom’s nails dragged over his flesh, leaving red lines in their wake. “You look so good like this.”

Tom’s hands then moved back to Harry’s waist, so he could drive his cock in faster, harder. Eagerly, Harry slid his legs further apart. With each thrust, Harry lurched forward. He could hear the bed creaking in protest. “I want you to come apart. ” Tom hissed, his grip tightening.

Harry moaned back encouragingly. “Yes. Please, yes.”

Tom instantly froze. Harry didn’t notice. 

Harry desperately moved back and forth on Tom’s cock, unaware of the fact that the man had stopped. He felt so good. He needed Tom inside of him. He needed this forever.

Whining, he bounced back faster and faster as his navel tightened.

“You truly are a wonder, Harry.” Tom then thrust forward, his nails digging into Harry’s hips, and Harry came. Tom continued to pound his cock in deeper, however. 

Dazed, Harry slumped into the mattress, allowing Tom to use him as he wanted. His forehead was damp with sweat, his curls mused. Jolts of pleasure ran through him as Tom drove his cock in faster.

He loved him. He loved this. Tom’s movements then stilled as the man came inside of him. 

A guttural moan spilled past his lips. Knowing that his insides were wet now because of Tom’s cum was… was— 

“We have to do that again,” Harry mumbled into their bedsheets, barely coherent.

Tom grunted in agreement. Lazily, Tom rolled off of him, collapsing by his side. “You’ve always held so many secrets, Harry, but this one may be your most impressive.”

Grumbling, Harry cuddled closer to Tom, placing his head on the man’s chest. “What do you mean, Tom? Speak English.”

“Harry,” Tom purred, “we’re not speaking English.” 

Harry blinked. “Yeah, sure.” Then, with a tired yawn, Harry wiggled impossibly closer to his boyfriend. “You’re making me breakfast in the morning.”

Tom’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him close. “Yes, of course. I’ll provide for all of your needs.” 

Pink pooled in Harry’s cheeks. “Y-Yeah. I’d like that.”

The two of them then dozed off, locked in a tight embrace. 

***

“You want me to meet your friends?” Harry asked, his head tilting to one side.

Tom shook his head, a small smile on his face. The man wrapped a dark green cloak around his shoulders, the material glistening in the lowlight. Everything Tom owned was magnificent. Harry’s own wardrobe paled in comparison.

He tugged on the ends of his brown coat, suddenly feeling underdressed. 

“They’re not my friends,” Tom replied, “they’re my followers. There’s a difference.” Harry had a feeling that there was no difference.

“Whatever you say.” Reaching forward, Harry smoothed out one of Tom’s loose curls, tucking it behind the man’s ear. Harry smiled. He could see Tom’s ears turning red. 

“I want them to know that our relationship is as strong as ever. That we are together. United.” Tom coughed, his blush darkening.

“Okay? I think they would be very shocked if you just up and left me because I got temporary amnesia. I doubt they need to be updated that we’re still a couple.”

“I would still like them to know,” Tom clasped the last of his buttons. “Are you ready?”

Harry nodded. Tom offered him his arm. Happily, Harry tucked himself closer to Tom, amazed as they apparated away. It was his first experience with magic in a while and—

Oh. Apparition sucked. Feeling nauseous, Harry pressed his face into Tom’s shoulder. “Oh. Oh, I hate that.”

Chuckling, Tom kissed his forehead. “We’ll floo next time.”

Harry then took the time to survey his surroundings. They were in what appeared to be the sitting room of a lavish mansion. The floor was made out of a cream sort of marble. Moving paintings adorned the walls, and there were these great curtains that looked to be embedded with gold. 

“My lord! Please, come inside. We all eagerly await your arrival.” The man’s blue eyes locked onto Harry’s. “M-My lord? You brought your guar—”

“—That’s enough, Abraxas.” Tom cut in, his gaze cold. “Lead us inside.”

Harry felt off-footed. He had never seen his boyfriend so callus before. He was always so warm. Was he not always like that?

Tom’s hand slid down to his waist. “I can’t wait to show you off.”

Harry blinked in confusion. “Why?” Up ahead, Abraxas tripped.

“You’re special, Harry. Special and all mine.”

His eyebrows furrowed together. “Whatever you say, Tom.” Harry spoke, disbelief colouring his voice. 

“It’s true. You might not realize it yet, Harry, but you will soon enough.”

The three of them entered what appeared to be a serving room. There was a long dining table. Each spot at the table was filled except for the head seat. Tom strode towards it. Awkwardly, Harry followed him. Where was he going to sit? On the ground?

Tom then seemed to realize this as well. He quietly turned towards one of his followers. “Orion. Give up your chair.” 

As if there was fire suddenly underneath him, Orion jumped to his feet, his features pinched in panic. “Y-Yes, of course, my lord!” The chair then floated towards Tom’s.

Harry looked around in confusion. What sort of dynamic was this? Did Tom boss them all around? He glanced at his boyfriend, feeling disappointed. 

Oh.

“Harry,” Tom inclined his head, “sit by my side.” Harry sat down, his disappointment refusing to dissipate.

A timid voice then spoke out. “M-My lord? Why have you gathered us here today? Why have you brought your fath—” Tom waved his hand. Instantly, the man fell silent. Harry’s disappointment grew. 

“I have come to inform you all that my relationship with Harry has not been impacted by his temporary amnesia.” The room was silent. “We are as compatible as we have always been. We have been together, as a couple, for many years.” Someone choked. “We have gone through many challenges. Nothing has changed between us, though. He is mine.” All of Tom’s followers looked pale. 

Orion, who was sitting on the floor, looking dejected, slowly raised his hand. “C-Congratulations for the happy couple?” The room then erupted in applause.

Tom preened in the attention while Harry squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable. None of this felt necessary. Most disconcertingly, he felt like he wasn’t supposed to be here. The shock on Tom’s followers’ faces when Tom referred to them as a couple was worrying. They hadn’t been expecting that. 

He slowly turned towards Tom. The man was basking in his followers’ praise. Tom looked at him, a smile twitching across his face. Harry smiled back, his chest hollow. 

He needed to learn about his past.

And fast. 

***

“Come on, come on,” Harry whispered, panic thrumming under his skin. He was looking through the books he and Tom kept in their flat. He was trying to find any yearbooks or scrapbooks that detailed their past together. When Harry had asked Tom if he had any friends of his own he could reach out to, the man told them that he didn’t. And Harry didn’t know what else to do. 

“What’s with the sudden interest in reading?” Harry froze. “I’ve always been the well-read one in our relationship.” Tom was leaning against their wall, an indulgent smile on his face.

“I-I was trying—” What could Harry say? “—to read.”

“I figured.” 

Chuckling, Tom pushed himself off of the wall and strolled towards him. “I want to do something with you tonight.” The floorboards creaked as Tom invaded his space. “I want to go out.” Their noses were almost touching. Confidently, Tom placed his arm above Harry’s head. He was being crowded into the bookshelf, pinned.

“What do you want to do?” Harry asked, his voice quiet. He sounded weak. Intimidated. He was not afraid. Tom laughed, his voice rough and low. Heat stirred beneath Harry’s skin.

Bollocks.

He was definitely not afraid. 

“I want to go out tonight,” Tom purred, “as a couple.” Harry stilled. “I can get us a reservation somewhere nice, somewhere exclusive.”

He placed his hands on Tom’s chest. “You want to go out on a date? An actual date?” 

Tom moved closer. “Well, we are dating, Harry.” He could feel the man’s knee pushing itself in-between his thighs.

His cheeks blossomed red. “Not tonight,” Harry gritted out, his blush intensifying.

“Why not?” The man’s knee was moving purposefully, firm against his—

“—I already ate.” Harry twitched, his body begging him to move.

Tom’s lips slid across his cheek. “We’ll eat light tonight, love.” Harry moaned, his head falling back. “You like that? My love.” He moved against Tom’s knee.

“There we go,” Tom grinned, “nice and eager for me. I’ll make the reservations in the next hour.” Harry threw his arms around the other man, pulling him in, kissing him. Pleased, Tom took his time with him. By the time they were done, Harry’s thighs were spread wide, his face red, his eyes glazed, and his lips turned in a blissful smile. He could feel Tom’s cum leaking out of him. 

Then, they got dressed. They got dressed, and they went out. 

***

The dinner was fantastic. Tom took Harry to an Italian restaurant. Everything on the menu had been in Italian, though. Consequently, Harry had had to ask Tom what to order. Despite his initial embarrassment over the menu, the date had been amazing. He typically wasn’t one for candlelight and romance, but he had felt loved throughout the date. 

Tom made him feel loved. 

A blast of cold air rushed over them. Shivering, Harry shuffled closer to Tom. “We should probably go back home. It’s getting late.” The sky above them was black, barely speckled by stars. There were a few other couples walking around, but mostly, they were alone.

Harry brought his hands to his lips, his breaths shaky. Yet, even as he tried to warm himself, the cold persisted. It stayed in his joints, sharp and raw. 

“You’re cold.” Tom’s eyebrows scrunched together. Suddenly, he grabbed his hands, bringing them to his own lips. “Let me, Harry.” The man then breathed over him, his breath warm. With his features still pinched, Tom rubbed Harry’s hands, determined.

A laugh fell past Harry’s lips. “You’re cute.” 

Tom glared at him. “I am not cute, Harry. I am trying to raise your temperature. My actions are not cute.”

Snickering, he leaned in closer to Tom, their noses bumping. “You’re incredible, Tom.” The world went quiet. There was a flushness to the man’s cheeks that hadn’t been there before.

Tom stared at Harry, his pupils dilating. “You’re mine, Harry.”

“I know,” Harry glanced down at his hands, still held by Tom. “I know.” He didn’t know what to do. This felt so right, but it couldn’t be.

Tom’s breath wafted over his face, his gaze bright. Lips ghosted across his cheek. “Let’s go home, Harry.”

Tom turned away, regal as always. Cautiously, Harry surveyed their surroundings. He could see some of the couples watching them, whispering. They looked confused. Some looked horrified. One woman in particular looked at him with disgust, her complexion pale and clammy. Harry looked down at his shoes. He wondered if he could run to them and ask them what was wrong. What was he missing?

Was he just… was he just going crazy? Was it all in his head? Water filled his lungs. Choking, he stumbled forwards.

“Harry?” Arms wrapped around him. Panicking, Harry clung to Tom, seeking his support. He needed him.

Tom’s grip tightened. “Don’t worry, Harry, I’ve got you.”

“Let’s just go home. Everything is going to be okay.”

***

Yawning, Harry trudged forward into their living room. He was wearing one of Tom’s button-up white shirts. The buttons were mismatched to their holes, stretched unevenly. His boxers were baggy and green. Another item of Tom’s. 

The man in question was sitting on their sofa, drink in hand. “Hello, Harry. You’re up early.”

“Mhmn.” Harry wobbled towards Tom, another yawn bursting past his lips. “Too early.” Blearily, Harry collapsed onto their coach, his limbs spread in every direction.

Tom sipped his drink. “It really isn’t.”

A slow smile spread across Harry’s face. “Hot chocolate.”

“What?”

“I bet,” Harry sat up, “you’re drinking hot chocolate. You’ve always had a sweet tooth, Tom.”

Tom stilled.

Chuckling, Harry crawled into Tom’s lap. “Of course, you’ll never admit it. We should go back to Honeydukes sometime.” 

“Is that right?” Tom looked unsettled.

Feeling off-footed, he petted the top of Tom’s head. “Yeah. Are you alright?”

Tom blinked slowly. Harry felt as if he was being assessed. Fidgeting underneath his boyfriend’s gaze, he placed his hand on Tom’s chest. “You know what I was thinking we could do?” He toyed with Tom’s shirt, pinching the material. “I wouldn’t mind, you know.” He rolled his hips forward.

Actually, he remembered purchasing this shirt. He got it for Tom when the man hit his first major growth spurt at fifteen. Now, the shirt was snug around him, emphasizing his form. 

Harry’s eyes narrowed. He could remember that. He could remember Tom as a fifteen year old. He could remember him at twelve. Eleven. Ten. Nine. He touched his own face. In those memories, he looked as he did now. Seventeen. Forever young. 

(A consequence from gathering all of the Hollows.)

Wool’s Orphanage was gray. A gloomy place that reflected dark times. Tom looked out of place in the misery. He was far too fierce, too bright. Even as a boy, he wasn’t content with normalcy. He refused to disappear, to vanish like smoke. He wanted to burn.

“Have you come to take me away?”

Harry knew what he meant. Tom didn’t think he was a prospective parent. He thought he was something worse. “I’m not a doctor, nothing of the sort.”

Tom sneered at him, haughty even then. “Then why are you here?” 

He could feel Tom pushing him off of his lap, pinning him to the sofa. The man loomed above him, cold and closed off. 

“You’re going to love Hogwarts, Tom.” Harry crouched down to Tom’s level, smiling at the boy. “You’re going to make so many memories. I remember my first year well. The excitement of it all.” 

Tom scoffed at him, turning his head. “I’m sure it will be alright.”

Brightening, Harry ruffled Tom’s hair. “It will be more than that!”

“Stop that!” Tom growled, his teeth flashing. “Don't make me unkempt! It’s my first day, and—”

“—Fuck.” Tom hissed in parseltongue. “There goes that.” He had dropped his favourite mug on the floor, his one that matched with Harry’s. Harry flipped through his book, ignoring the outburst. He couldn’t let Tom know that he spoke parseltongue, after all. It would raise too many questions, questions he couldn’t answer. 

Tom scooped the broken shards into his hands. “Reparo.” His wandless magic was coming along nicely. For his age, he was—

“—Harry!” Tom rushed into his arms, engulfing him in a hug. Laughing, Harry pulled Tom closer. “Tom? What’s with all the excitement? Did you miss me that much?”

All of the Hogwarts students were getting off of the train, greeting their parents, and saying goodbye to their friends. Tom tucked his face into Harry’s shoulder. The teenager was almost taller than him now.

“Mhmn. Gngh.” Tom murmured incoherently.

He patted the boy’s head. “I’m glad you’re back, Tom. I love you.”

Tom’s grip tightened. "Harry, you— "

Excitedly, Harry danced towards Tom, carrying a cake. The man was dressed in his Hogwarts uniform, sat at their dining table. “Look what we have here!” Harry cheered as he placed the cake down in front of him. “A Hogwarts Graduate! Congratulations, Tom.” Grinning, Harry leaned down and kissed the top of Tom’s head.

Tom preened, his face tinted pink. “Thank you, Harry.”

“You know,” Harry teased, energy bubbling beneath his skin, “you graduated with all Os! You nerd.” Harry stroked Tom’s head. “You brainiac. You—”

Tom caught his hand. Stroking the inside of his wrist, Tom smirked at him. “You know, this isn’t the treatment I was expecting.”

“What do you want? Do you want me to treat you like a princess?”

“No, of course not—”

“—You’ve acquired a job at the ministry?” Harry asked, his eyes wide.

Tom nodded. “Yes. It’s just an office position, though. Quite simple. It’d bore you to hear about it.”

“Tom,” Harry stepped closer, “I want to hear everything about your life. Everything.” Dread squirmed inside of him. Why wasn’t Tom being honest? What was he doing? In his past, the man worked at Borgin and Burkes. Yet, by now, they had deviated so far from the past that Harry knew that he couldn’t predict anything anymore.

Tom wrapped his arms around him. “Don’t worry, Harry. You raised me, right? I wouldn’t do anything untoward.” Tom kissed his forehead, his lips soft. “Don’t worry.” His heart thumped wildly in his chest as Tom nuzzled his face.

It felt strange. He would always be caught off guard with how affectionate Tom was. Did he make the right decision? He left his own time to come here, to raise Tom as his own. His world was never the same after the Battle of Hogwarts. Too many students were lost, too many of his friends. He thought that if he could raise Tom, teach him the power of love, he could save everyone. 

Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Mad-Eye Moody, Fred Weasley—

—But what if it all was for nothing? What if he didn’t diverge Tom from his path? Shaking, Harry hugged Tom back, just as fiercely. No. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Tom was his. He raised him. He knew that there was good in him. He’d seen it. 

“Wake up,” Harry whispered to himself, disoriented.

He was pinned down to their sofa, Tom above him. Voldemort’s face flashed through his mind. The events of his dreams were… were— 

“Harry,” Tom breathed shakily, “you’re back.”

He winced. “I’m back.”

Red filled his cheeks. “You, we, we did, together!” Harry stammered, quickly feeling flustered. He could remember what Tom felt like inside of him. The quickness of their movements, the pleasure. Moments before, he had wanted Tom. Wanted Tom to fill him with his cock. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist you. You were just right there. And,” Tom’s pupils grew, “you wanted me. You wanted me just as badly. You always have.”

Harry immediately shook his head. “No! I’ve never… you’re my child! I raised you!” 

Instead of growing angry, as Harry expected, Tom chuckled. “Denial doesn’t suit you. Even now, you’re blushing.”

“Because you, you!” Harry’s blush darkened. “We did things! You need to move out! I-I’ve failed. I’ve failed as your guardian, as a human being. I messed up.”

He knew he could push Tom off of him. Tom wasn't used to physical alterations like he was. He was too reliant on magic. 

“It would have always turned out like this,” Tom disagreed. “There was no other future for us. We’re made for one another. We fit perfectly.” Tom leered at him. “You take me so well. Just like I always knew you would.” 

“Get off of me!” Harry hissed. He had to ignore how flustered Tom was making him. He had to be stern. He had to get out of here.

“Let me get you off, instead.” Tom replied, and Harry’s brain short circuited.

“N-No?”

“You want me,” Tom purred in his ear, “you need me. You need this. You can’t leave me, and I can’t leave you. We’re tied together.” Teeth nipped at his flesh. “We should get married. It’s what everyone expects now, anyways. What with all of our public outings.”

Harry paled. Oh god, everyone thought he was—

“Quiet those thoughts, love. They don't serve you any good. Just focus on me.” Tom grinned at him, all teeth. “I’ll make you feel good for the rest of our lives.”

Worst of all, he knew Tom would. The man knew him better than anyone. He would always know what he needed. 

“I don't expect you to say yes right away, but,” Tom squeezed Harry’s wrists, “I know that you will. You can’t outpace me for long. I’ll catch you, and I’ll have you.”

Harry closed his eyes in defeat. Even though he didn’t want to admit it, he knew that Tom was right. 

He couldn’t outmaneuver him forever. Deny him for the rest of their lives. He would be caught. Heat stirred inside of him, flickering to life at the thought. His hips twitched forward. Harry shuddered in shame. 

“We’ll be together sooner than you think, Harry. I won’t have to wait long.”

As always, Harry knew Tom would be right.