He watched them through the floor, his face drawn up with a mixture of emotions. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about his lover and his best friends working so hard to bring him back. He nervously nibbled on his lower lip as he tore his gaze away and looked up to Death's impossibly still form.
"Will it work?" he asked hesitantly.
"They cannot bring you back unless you want to return," Death said, his empty gaze remaining firmly on the image on the ground.
Beside him, Merope sits, her eyes filled with remorse and love as she stares at Tom. "What will you do?" she asks, lightly tracing Tom's face with her finger.
Harry swallowed dryly. What will he do? It was a fair question, one Harry didn't have the answer to. It was a debate he'd been holding with himself since he first found out he had the option to return. Did he stay here, where his family awaited him in the beyond or did he return to the hell that was living, his only relief from the struggles of war and pain being his friends and his lover?
"I love Tom," Harry said, and he watched as Merope turned her gaze to face him. "I love him," he repeated. "So much. But... I'm tired."
She nodded slowly. "I am so grateful to you, Harry Potter," she whispered, her trembling hands reaching forward to grasp Harry's. "You have done for me what I was never able to do. For that, I am grateful. I will accept whatever you choose, even if it is not the one I want you to do."
Merope's words bring a bittersweet feeling, and he swallows dryly. Could he be selfish for once? Could he choose to rest? He was just so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of working, tired of the endless uphill battle. He just wanted to rest, his family by his side.
He was ready to move on.
He turned to face Death, his face hardening with determination. He was ready to move on, yet when he opened his mouth to speak, he felt something holding him back. A small, tiny tugging motion on his gut, pulsing as if to say, 'not yet. Don't leave'. He frowned, his hand absently rubbing his gut.
It wasn't just a gut feeling, it was a physical pulling on his stomach. He gasped when the tugging got harder and a sudden warmth filled his being. It was so warm, so welcoming, the feeling brought tears to Harry's eyes.
"What...?"
"Ah, I see he has figured it out," Death said, and Harry barely heard him over the overwhelming feeling of safety.
"What is this?" Harry asked, the warmth surrounding him on all sides. It was as if someone had wrapped him in a tight blanket and hugged him tight to their chest.
"That is the love Tom feels for you," Death said, and Harry's mouth opened into a gape. "That is the emotion Tom feels every time he sees you."
Harry could feel the tears sliding down his face, and a soft gasp erupted out of his mouth. This was what Tom felt for him? This feeling of peace and warmth? This was what Tom felt? Harry sobbed, completely overwhelmed from the feeling.
"I don't... understand..." Harry whispered, kneeling over. Death hummed.
"Tom has found the tether that binds your souls together," Death said. "He is sending the love he feels for you through the tether. He is trying to convince you to stay with him."
Harry covered his face, embarrassed by the emotion he was no doubt displaying. Tom felt like this? Was this how he always felt or was this a result of finally having his soul back? The feeling was like nothing he'd ever felt before. The sheer magnitude of emotion was incredible. Like a vast ocean, filled to the brim with love, hope, possessiveness, obsession, protectiveness, and the overwhelming desire to hold. All of it was too much.
It was too much, and not enough at the same time.
"He loves me," Harry whispered, his voice awe-struck. "He really, truly loves me."
"Of course he does," Merope said, a soft chuckle echoing her words. "Did you ever doubt that?"
Harry looked up from his hands, blinking away the blurriness in his eyes to see her better. "I think... I think maybe I did," he admitted softly. "I think I was so scared to believe it. Everyone who loves me leaves."
Merope clicked her tongue and shook her head gently. "He loves you just as much, maybe even more than you love him," she said, and Harry wanted to say that was impossible. If Tom's love for him was an ocean, Harry's was a planet. "The love you feel for each other is strong, it defies everything."
As if to agree with her words, another harsh tug on his stomach let another wave of warmth and affection rush over him. He suddenly heard Tom's words wash over him in a tender whisper, his words caressing his face with a gentleness that made his heart ache.
"I love you, Harry James Potter. Come back to me. Please."
Harry's breath hitched, tears filling his eyes once again. Harry knew Tom loved him now, his ocean of emotions was more than enough proof. Harry also knew that Tom desperately wanted him to return because Tom just begged for him to come back. Harry had been ready to leave, ready to move on to the beyond where he could finally be with his family, yet Tom begged him to come back.
Who was Harry to deny him?
Harry sucked in a determined breath and nodded, wiping the tears from his face. "I want to go back to him," Harry said, turning to face Death. "I want to go back to my Tom."
"Then return," Death said, not giving away whether he was surprised by Harry's decision or not. "You are my Master, anytime you enter my realm, the option to return will be granted."
Harry nods and closes his eyes, determined to return to his body, to his friends, to his Tom. How does he do that? He figures Hogwarts is a good place to start and begins to recall the castle in great detail.
He sat there in silence for a long time, absently remembering the different details about the Hogwarts castle, but he doesn't feel anything changing. Eager to hear the familiar bustle of Hogwarts, the birds in the Forbidden Forest, Harry strains his ears, but the only thing he can hear is the hauntingly familiar tune of Death's humming.
"How do I return?" Harry asked, opening one eye to glance at Death.
"Focus on the tether," Death said, and Harry zeroed in on the tugging from his core. "That is the tether that bridges this world and yours. Follow the tether back to your body."
Harry closes his eyes again and focuses on the tugging from his core. He can just barely feel what might be a string connecting from his core to something that he can't see. Harry brings his mind into his magical core, and the sight of it almost takes his breath away.
Harry has only meditated with the intention of seeing his magical core once, and he was never successful. To see your magical core, one needs a lot of patience and a quiet space. Harry had neither of those things, so he never saw it.
Now, though, Harry was able to see it clearly and it was beautiful. His core was large and giving off a bright, golden light. The light was warm and accepting, and Harry felt safe here, surrounded by his magic.
He could still hear Death humming, but somehow it sounded almost louder here. Harry frowned, his eyes searching for the tether that Death spoke of, but the humming was too loud. He just barely managed to catch a glimpse of a red string before the humming brought him out of focus.
Harry huffed and turned to glare at Death. "I can't focus with you humming so loud!" Harry exclaimed. "It's distracting! What is it, anyway? I've heard it before but I just can't place it..."
"That is the song your soul sings when it meets Tom's soul," Death said, making Harry freeze in place as Merope gasps. "Because a piece of Tom's soul has been touching yours since you were a child, your soul always sings."
"They're soulmates?" Merope asked in a hushed whisper.
Harry knew what singing souls meant, something that he learned in Hogwarts back in fourth year. If a soul sings it means the soul is powerful, but if two souls sing together then they are soulmates. It was something Harry never considered before, but as he thought about it, it made sense.
Death had been humming that tune since he first arrived here, and it always sounded familiar to him, but he was never able to figure out where he heard it before. And just now, while Harry was inside his core, the humming was louder, not because of Death, but because he could hear his core sing!
"That's... that's our soul song?" Harry asked.
"Indeed," Death said. "Instead of focusing on the tether, perhaps you should focus on the song. Find your missing duet."
Harry smiles and closes his eyes, instantly returning to his core. The hum, no longer quiet, echoed all around him. He gave himself a moment to bask in the wonderful sound before he focused on finding the missing part.
The song sounded beautiful, but the harmonies were off. Harry's soul sung louder than Tom's, probably because of the distance. As Harry got closer to the tether, Tom's part got louder. Harry grasped the red string and he could feel a surge of warmth run up his arm, the vibrations from the song tickling his fingers.
Harry grinned, letting his hand slide down the string as he followed it. The farther he went down the string, the louder the music got. The music, previously unbalanced and quiet, began to get louder and more balanced with each step he took.
The music surrounded him on all sides, and Harry couldn't stop the tears that flowed down his face, nor the smile that tugged at his cheeks. As his fingers brushed the end of the tether, the music became deafening. He basked in the sound for a few moments before it suddenly went quiet.
In the absence of the song, Harry could hear everything else going on around him.
He could hear what sounded like people crying, and he could feel a warm grip on his hand, a soft heat on his wrist where someone breathed. He could hear and feel things again! Harry slowly opened his eyes and squinted against the shock of color. After spending what felt like an eternity in a white void, the return of color was almost blinding.
Harry, once his eyes had adjusted, darted around what appeared to be the Astronomy Tower of Hogwarts, greedily taking in the sights. He could see a rune circle on the floor and stars shining through the open window of the tower. He could see his best friends, Ron and Hermione embracing each other in the corner, sobs racking their forms.
But the most beautiful sight was not the stars or his friend's faces. The most beautiful sight was Tom hunched over his still form. Harry could see his hair in disarray, his clothes rumpled in a way that advertised his emotional state. Despite his pale face, dripping with tears, despite the bags under his eyes and the sickly color of his skin, Tom had never looked more beautiful to Harry than he did in this moment.
A warm smile spread across his face. "Are you watching me while I sleep, again? Tom, I thought we talked about this."
Harry pitied Tom's neck, watching as Tom's head shot up at such a fast rate, he heard his neck pop. Tom's eyes were wide with a mixture of disbelief and longing, his crimson eyes appearing to glow from the shine of tears against the gentle torchlight.
"Harry," he breathed, his face wide with shock. Behind him, Ron and Hermione spun around with hopeful surprise.
Harry couldn't stop himself from teasing, thinking back to all the times he called Tom out on his creepy behaviors. "You're such a creep, Tom." he whispered fondly.
|1997|
Harry composed himself for a brief moment, forcing himself not to glance back at the necklace on the floor before he opened the door and walked out to the kitchen compartment where Hermione sat. Her face was grim, smudges of dirt standing out against her pale skin. She hadn't bathed since winter started, knowing it was too cold to safely bathe, especially since the last time they started a fire they were nearly caught. It was mid-January now, so they would be able to properly bathe soon, no more quick scrub downs with a rag in the tent.
"This is risky, 'Mione," Harry said carefully. "How much do we have left?"
"If we cut our rations down again we can last a few more days," Hermione said, covering her face with her hands. "But if we do that it'll be even riskier to gather supplies. The lack of food has weakened us Harry, but if we eat any less our reaction time will be completely destroyed."
Harry nodded silently. He wanted to disagree with her but he knew he couldn't. Harry may be used to starvation, but his time at Hogwarts had slowly helped him get over it. Now that he was back to starving again, his tolerance had gone down. To be fair, whenever he was starved at the Dursleys, he didn't do enough physical activity to require a lot of food.
It was different now, though, as the two of them were fugitives. They were on the run which meant they needed to be physically prepared to fight their way out of any situation. Fighting when your body was running on less than a slice of bread a day was very difficult.
They needed more supplies and they put off the supply run for as long as they could, but Hermione was right. To wait any longer would bring unnecessary risk.
"What's the plan?" Harry asked, pulling out a chair.
"The muggle town nearby is small, but we should be able to blend in," Hermione said softly, finally leaving the safety of her hands. "If we place notice-me-not charms on our bodies, we should be able to get in and out quickly. It's muggle, so there shouldn't be any Death Eater patrols."
"What do we need?" Harry asked, nervously twiddling his thumbs. He had a bad feeling about this.
"Food, anything we can spell to last longer, but look for non-perishables, too," Hermione listed off. "Maybe some soap? We need more blankets and towels. I'll grab medicine and bandages."
"Wait, you're coming too?" Harry asked. Hermione glared at him.
"We'll be done faster if we both go," Hermione said, sticking her chin up, daring Harry to disagree with her. "The longer we stay in the town, the more dangerous it will be. We split up and get the supplies and come back as fast as we can."
"I don't like this..." Harry whispered with a frown.
Hermione's face softened as she reached out to take Harry's hand. "I don't either," she said. "But we have to do this. Once we have the supplies, we'll pack up and leave, just to be safe. Got it?"
"Food, blankets, towels," Harry listed. "In and out."
"In and out," Hermione nodded.
Harry donned a large, black coat and pulled the hood up to hide his face. Hermione covered herself with a shawl and put her hair up with a raggedy ribbon. She cast notice-me-not charms on both Harry and herself before the pair began the careful trek from the forest to the town. When they reached the border, Harry sent her one last look. "Be careful," he whispered.
"You too," Hermione said before she turned and ran in the opposite direction towards the pharmacy.
Harry breathed in deeply before he turned and went in the direction of the grocery market. With his hood up, and the strong notice-me-not charms, Harry was able to quickly enter the market and grab the things he needed. He stuffed as much food, blankets, and towels as he could into his Moleskine bag, grateful for the bottomless charm, and walked back out.
The entire adventure took less than ten minutes, and there wasn't a single problem. In and out, just as Hermione said. So why did he feel like something happened? The paranoia in his gut didn't ease up as he made his way towards the forest, and Harry nervously glanced around to see if he was being followed.
He doesn't see anyone, but the paranoia was strong. Deciding to just risk it, he turns down an empty alleyway that was all but blocked off from view so he could apparate back to the outskirts of the tent. Just as he prepares himself to apparate, a strong arm grabs the back of his coat and throws him forward, and within a second, Harry is being pinned to the harsh brick wall of the alleyway.
Harry kicked out, struggling to get out of his attacker's grip. He was being pinned by a body, and try as he might, his malnourished body wasn't strong enough to throw the man off of him. "Let go of me—"
"Stop fighting, dearest," a voice whispered in his ear.
Harry froze in shock, his eyes widening as he realized exactly who was holding him against the wall. His breath hitched when he felt him move behind him. His arms, previously pinned by two hands, were shifted above him so that he was pinned by one hand, the other reaching up to flip his hood off his face.
With his face exposed, Harry carefully leaned his head back so he could see him. His eyes widened when he saw his manic expression. He looked... He looked bad. He was just as stupidly handsome as he always was, but there was something feral in his expression that made Harry's stomach drop to the bottom of his shoes.
"Tom..." Harry whispered, noting with despair the way Tom's eyes lit up with possessive glee.
His face curled up in a snarl, and Harry flinched as Tom—no, this wasn't Tom anymore. This wasn't the man that declared his love for him as he cuddled him close. This wasn't Harry's Tom. This man was Voldemort—buried his face in Harry's exposed neck. The action was familiar, something that Tom had done to him several times before, but this time there was a dark tinge to it.
Harry cried out with shock when Voldemort bit his neck harshly, his neck tingling with pain. "I've been looking for you, love," Voldemort whispered, his voice gravelly. "You've been running from me."
"Let me go," Harry demanded, pulling at the hand that was pinning Harry's wrist to the wall above him. The action caused Harry's hips to buck, brushing his backside with Voldemort's crotch. The motion made Harry's breath hitch and Voldemort growled.
A/N: You already know I took it out
Voldemort, who seemed to sense Harry's inner turmoil, tightened his grip on Harry to the point of bruising. "You don't get to leave now," he hissed. "Not after that!"
"I'm doing what I have to do," Harry said, pulling out of Voldemort's grip with great difficulty. "And if you weren't being such an arse about it, maybe I'd actually explain it to you!"
"The explanation is clear," Voldemort hissed. "You are trying to betray me! But I won't let you! Do you understand me? I won't let you! I'll lock you up if I have to. You don't get to leave me! Not now. Not ever!"
Harry stared at Voldemort for a minute, frantically searching for any signs of bluffing, but he saw none. Well, if he wasn't sure before... Tom was gone, and in his place was Voldemort. Harry could never truly be happy with Voldemort, he needed Tom to be whole.
"Do you remember the Pepper Spray incident?" Harry asked. Voldemort frowned before his eyes widened with realization.
"NO—"
Voldemort screeched as Harry pepper-sprayed him in the face. He dropped to the ground and screamed as he clawed at his face. "I'm sorry," Harry whispered as he apparated away. He landed in the forest of dean, a few feet away from the warded tent. Harry took a moment to vanish the mess in his pants before he entered the tent.
"HARRY!" Hermione cried, throwing her arms around him in a hug. "I was so scared! You were gone for so long! What happened? Where were you? Are you okay? Did something happen?"
"We need to go," Harry said quickly, grateful for Hermione's foresight as the tent was already packed and ready to go. "I got the things but someone recognized me. Let's go before reinforcements arrive."
Later, after the pair were settled in a new part of the forest, far away from the muggle town, Harry allowed himself to put the locket back on. The familiar thrum of magic warmed his insides as he collapsed into the bed.
As he drifted off to sleep, he could've sworn he heard the locket whisper, "Oh Harry..."
Voldemort stared at Harry with disbelief, his eyes wide with hope as he carefully cupped Harry's face. "You're... You're alive!" he cried.
"'Course I am!" Harry said with a laugh. "You think a little death can stop me—OOF!"
Harry's words were cut off as Voldemort threw himself into Harry's arms. Voldemort held Harry tight to his chest, tears streaming down his face without a care. Harry was alive! It worked! Harry was alive!
"Tom—"
Voldemort cut Harry off as he leaned in to capture Harry's lips with his own, hoping to convey his love and joy to Harry. Harry chuckled against his lips and kissed back. Voldemort lost himself in the feeling of Harry's lips against his own, He had missed Harry so much, and now, finally, Harry was back! Their kiss was salty as tears from both Voldemort and Harry made their way down their cheeks.
"Alright, alright, you can kiss my best mate later!" a voice called. Voldemort pulled away from the kiss to snarl at the Weasley boy, but Harry just laughed.
"Hi Ron," Harry said, his face lighting up with a smile. "Hi 'Mione."
"You have a lot of explaining
to do, Harry James!" Granger growled, but she was smiling too much for her threat to be taken seriously.
"I promise I'll explain everything," Harry said softly. "But first, I'd like a moment alone with Tom, please."
"What?! Wait! I want answers! Harry, how long have you been shagging the Dark Lord!" Weasely cried, but Granger just shook her head and gently tugged him towards the exit. "Wait! No, I still have questions! Harry—ow! 'Mione, stop pulling so hard!—Harry!"
"Come find us when you're done," Granger said, leveling a serious glare at Harry before the pair left the room.
Harry turned to face him, and suddenly Voldemort was nervous. What was going to happen now? "I love you!" he said suddenly. Harry's face softened into a smile that filled Voldemort with warmth.
"I love you, too," he said. "But I think we need to talk."
Voldemort swallowed. "I think you're right," he agreed. "So let's talk."