Lightning and War

Haruspex

"I want you to tell me what that was, Harry."

"How can I tell you something I have no idea of myself?"

Tom paused. He'd been sure that Harry knew the source of that odd ripple that had traveled through his magic after his duel with Black, and that the main problem would be getting him to speak the truth. But Harry sat with his head between his hands, a shiver wracking him. Perhaps he was speaking the truth now.

Tom circled around and knelt down in front of him. Harry blinked and lifted his head. "It looks wrong to see you on your knees."

"I only need the right incentive," Tom murmured, and enjoyed the sight of Harry's face flushing bright pink even though he had no intention of fucking him right now. He glided his hand down Harry's ribs. "What did the ripple feel like?"

"As though my magic had woken up and was trying to rip its way out of my body the way it would a cocoon."

"I wish you hadn't sacrificed so much of your magic to stabilize the portal."

"Well, if I hadn't, then neither of us would be here at all," said Harry, and his hands were clenched in front of him. "Can you just try to not make this a bigger deal than it already was?"

"Something is wrong with your magic. Of course I want to help you heal it."

Harry met his eyes for a second, then turned his head away, nodding. "Yes, fine. I just don't want you to act as though I've been keeping information about this from you deliberately. If something had happened right after I stabilized the portal, I would have told you."

Tom nodded, appeased. That wouldn't keep him from watching out in the future to make sure that Harry didn't hide more of it from him, of course. "Fine. Now I want you to lie down on the bed. I need to find a mouse."

Harry had started to do as Tom instructed, but now he turned his head. "A mouse? Why?"

"As a blood sacrifice for the ritual to tell what happened to your magic."

"Tom. Don't do that."

Tom paused and turned back around, spinning neatly on one foot. Harry was leaning towards him, hanging off the bed. His eyes were brilliant, and if he didn't have magic sparking around him at the moment, well, he didn't need it. He had enough determination to stop a charging griffin in its tracks.

"You can't tell me that you care that much about a mouse's life."

"I care enough not to want you to sacrifice anything for me, no matter how tempting it might be," Harry snapped.

"And I admire your compassion, but I'll hit it with the Killing Curse. It's not as though it'll suffer."

"It's still blood magic."

"Yes. The sort of sacrifice that I used to appease the oracle and open the portal that took me to your second world. Or did you manage to forget that in the agony of falling in love with me?"

Harry dropped his head back with a clench of his teeth. Yes, from the sound of things, he had forgotten that. Tom beamed at him and went to the cage that he kept ready in a corner of the house's second room. It was full of mice in stasis, along with a few rats and small birds; certain rituals worked better with either larger sacrifices or feathered ones. Tom scooped up one of the mice and carried it into the bedroom.

Harry was lying down only insofar as reclining against a mound of pillows constituted that. He had his arms folded and his gaze fixed on Tom.

"You know that not watching might make you feel better about this?"