Killing Me Softly

Chapter Eleven
Douglas Avery's Final Words

I want to kiss you but your
Lips are venomous poison
- "Poison" by Alice Cooper

*****

While Nagini lay curled on the ground, she felt two humans enter the room. She raised her head and watched the two wizards approach her master. One was the fat human Wormtail, but the other human was a male she had never seen before. He was tall and emaciated, grey-haired and gaunt-faced.

"Augustus Rookwood," Lord Voldemort said. Nagini rested her head back on her body, losing interest. She never understood a word the humans ever said.

"Master," Rookwood gasped, falling on his knees. He kissed a corner of the blankets that were wrapped around his lord. "Thank you!" He looked up at Lord Voldemort's face. "What has become of you?"

"This tale I will tell you later," Lord Voldemort said coldly. "I take it you and Wormtail were able to escape Azkaban without any trouble?"

"Yes!" Rookwood said, laughing hoarsely. "Clever plan, my lord, to curse a Muggle to look like myself and to have him take my place! The Dementors do not know what has happened!"

"The Dementors will return to our side shortly," Lord Voldemort explained, "but in the meantime I don't want attention drawn to your missing cell. Did you bring what I requested from you?"

"Yes, yes," Rookwood said. "It was very easy to sneak in. No one was guarding the entrance tonight; people rarely break in, since it takes special knowledge to find what one seeks there. But of course, I know my way around the Department of Mysteries!" Chuckling, he sat up straight and pulled out a small glowing ball from his pockets.

Nagini raised her head again, observing the white orb. What a strange egg, she thought.

"It took me a couple of hours to extract the prophecy," Rookwood continued. "I was very lucky no one else was in the Department; I was able to take my time. You see, prophecies cannot be touched by anyone other than the people they relate to, and replicating them is a delicate procedure. I was able to extract it into this." He settled the orb in front of his master.

"You have done well, Rookwood," Lord Voldemort said. "Your deed will be rewarded."

Nagini watched as her lord tapped the glowing egg with his wand. It cracked and spilt open. Misty light shined from the inside, and a voice followed, a high, hoarse voice spoke in their human tongue...

When the talking stopped, Nagini slithered closer to the couch where her master sat, wondering what had just happened...

***

Harry awoke in the bathtub, grinning. A feeling of immense happiness was in his stomach.

Why am I happy? Harry wondered as he shook the feeling off. There's no reason to be feeling this way. He turned over and went back to sleep...

***

"Good morning," Harry greeted Tom flatly the next morning. Tom stared at Harry for a few minutes before taking a seat across from him. Harry looked as though he hadn't slept one minute after his dream last night.

"Were you up since the early morning making breakfast?" Tom asked, trying to smile. "This is the best you've ever made pancakes."

"I needed time to think," Harry responded before falling quiet.

Tom just stared at Harry, not touching his plate. His eyes skimmed over Harry's tried features, his slightly trembling lower lip, and his tired, unfocused eyes. "Would you like to sleep right now?" he asked. "I'll heat up your breakfast when you wake up."

"No," Harry said simply. He met Tom's eyes. "I want to move to another bedroom."

"Move?" Tom asked, trying not to look shocked.

"Why not?" Harry said, smiling faintly. "I have so much stuff here that it's cluttering the room. I need to get my own space."

"You can put your belongings in one of the guestrooms and sleep in our room," Tom suggested.

"No," Harry said firmly. "I need my own room, Tom. I cannot keep taking space in your room."

Since when was it just my room? Tom wondered, feeling hurt. No matter how much he argued with Harry that morning, he still found himself helping Harry as he hoisted his trunk into the guest room where Hermione had stayed.

It has something to do with the dream, doesn't it? Tom thought while he stood near the doorway, watching Harry unpack his trunk and lay out his photo album and books on the new shelves. The smile on Harry's face pained Tom. Was yesterday all a dream? he wondered.

Harry looked up at him, and his small smile faded.

"I like this room," he said simply, not meeting eye contact with Tom.

"Good," Tom replied flatly. They starred in different directions. "You have a lesson today in one hour."

"Can it be a little later?" Harry asked. "I'm tired." Noticing the upset look on Tom's face, Harry quickly said, "Fine, I'll be ready then," in an annoyed voice. He shut the door.

Feeling dizzied from confusion, Tom made his way down the staircase. He passed the spot where he and Harry shared their first kiss; a shiver ran down his body. That day seemed like it had happened years ago. When he entered the library, Tom sat on one of the coaches. His mind was too jumbled with thoughts of what to teach Harry next that he did not look at the old couple in the painting.

***

Aderyn examined the young boys curiously. Something had happened between them, she was sure of it. Neither spoke much to each other as they went about their lesson; both boys had frowns on their faces, and they kept eye contact to a minimum.

Did a fight occur between them? Aderyn wondered. She always loved to watch them fight, but this one was different. Harry would usually scream his lungs out while Tom threatened to decapitate him. However, this fight was silent and cold. The more Aderyn observed the boys, the more she began to wish they would start shrieking at each other. The silence in the room was maddening.

***

The moment the lesson was over, before Tom could say anything to Harry not related to their study session, Harry whizzed straight to his new room, shut the door, and fell asleep. Gaping slightly, Tom stared at the open door. He had never felt more alone before in the library.

"What happened between you?" Aderyn asked. Tom didn't pay attention; he kept staring at the doorway. When she asked the question again, Tom left the room, never looking back at them. He heard Grindelwald whisper something to his wife, but he did not bother to try to catch the words.

He settled down in the living room. Not to far from him was the television set Harry had bought a few months ago. Over time, he bought more of the strange gadgets called videocassettes, and they lay scattered next to the television.

"I always wanted to see this!" Harry would say whenever he found a movie he was denied while living with his relatives.

He hasn't had a chance to watch any of them yet, Tom thought, studying the titles. He wondered if he could lure Harry out of his room with the movies, but he decided against it. Knowing Harry, he'll stubbornly take the television into his room, Tom thought bitterly. Frowning, he eyed the Muggle gadget, wishing he could dispose of it.

A hooting sound averted his attention. Jarlath had flown into the room. Smiling, Tom stuck his hand out and stroked the owl's head.

"Where's you lady friend?" he asked Jarlath. "Is she hiding from you too? Is she with her owner who's just as stubborn and haughty as herself?" He sighed and shook his head. "What am I doing, taking my frustration out on owls?"

***

Harry didn't come down for lunch. Tom knocked on his bedroom door, and soft snores were the only reply. Tom tried to occupy himself with a book, but his mind kept slipping back to Harry. He leapt from his seat when he finally heard movement upstairs.

"Harry?" Tom called out, his hand on the doorknob. He heard a clicking sound inside. "Are you going to come out?"

"I have a lot of homework to do for you," Harry replied unemotionally.

"Forget it!" Tom said. "You've skipped lunch, and you've barely done anything all day outside. There's still time to go out. Would you like me to take you anywhere, to the Chimera Café perhaps?"

"No," Harry replied flatly.

"Aren't you hungry? It's almost time for dinner."

"Then leave my plate next to the door."

Tom turned the doorknob, but the door wouldn't open. "Are you sure you don't want to come out?" Tom pressed on, desperate to get Harry out without having to resort to force.

"I'm trying to study!" Harry screamed.

Cursing under his breath, Tom kicked the door and stormed down the stairs. How long is this going to continue? Tom wondered as he attempted to cook a chicken dinner. It's that little brat's fault! She's been dead for almost a year, yet she still's still a thorn in my side! He stared at the cold meat in front of him. Grinning, he raised the butcher knife and slowly cut the chicken, imagining that it was Ginny's body underneath his hand...

Harry accepted his plate without even giving Tom a glance. Before Tom could speak, Harry had shut the door, and Tom found himself eating alone in the dining room with only Jarlath for company.

***

Tom awoke in the middle of the night and instantly turned around to face Harry, only to remember that Harry wasn't sleeping in the same room as him anymore. The empty space next to him seemed strange and terribly lonesome...

I want to talk to him, he thought miserably. He had dreamt about Harry's life when he six and had received a box of dog biscuits for Christmas. Tom could not think of any specific questions; he just wanted to talk to him. Maybe he'll come in right now, he thought, half-hoping. Harry enjoys talking with me.

He waited, but Harry never showed up in the doorway. He turned around on the bed, giving up. A painful twinge erupted his heart, and closing his eyes, Tom wished he never knew what love was.

Days passed in similar manner. Tom tried to get Harry to speak to him, and every night he found himself lying in bed alone with no Harry to talk to. The bitter and miserable feeling in his heart hurt him greatly.

It never happened, Tom tried to convince himself one night. I never kissed him. I never kissed Harry... The pain in his heart intensified. I never liked him... Tom kicked the pillow Harry used to sleep on off the bed and settled himself in the middle. I never had a friend named Harry...This bed is mine...Harry never slept on it...

An image of Ginny flashed into his mind, and his face, already streaked with melancholy, twisted cynically into a terrifying glower. His fingers clenched the sheets...

***

Harry would never admit it to Tom, but he missed him terribly. He found it hard to continually give Tom the cold shoulder every day. Many times he wanted to exchange just one word with him, but he found himself stuck for what to say. Every time he remembered what he had seen happen to Ginny in the Chamber, he wanted to scream at Tom for his heartlessness.

April ended and they were now in the middle of May. The only times he was with Tom was during their lessons, and in those hours, Harry found himself unable to look at Tom for even a moment.

It's been about one year since I came to the manor, Harry thought as he looked outside from his bedroom window, observing the luscious, bright green trees and flowers surrounding the building, but it feels like I've been here for many years. So much has changed...how would I have felt about Tom if things had gone differently that day?

He was thankful for having a bathroom in his room; any excuse not to be out of the bedroom was fine by him. Mealtimes were another issue. Harry couldn't always use the excuse of having too much homework to do. He also couldn't lie about not feeling well, especially not when he had already told Tom that he rarely fell ill.

I wish I could kiss him again, but how can I touch him while recalling the murder he has committed?

Harry could hear the desperation in Tom's voice as he tried to get Harry to come out of his room every night.

I should speak to him, Harry thought, wishing he could be with Tom again. I really should. But what can I say to him? How can I make him realize what he has done?

***

While Tom sat in a comfortable spot in the living room one afternoon, buried deep in a book, he heard the upstairs doorknob turn. He raised his head and listened as Harry descended the stairs.

I can't believe it, he thought, Harry's leaving his room! He tossed the book aside and followed the direction Harry's footsteps were taking.

"What are you doing?" Tom asked when he found Harry. He was looking through mops and other cleaning supplies in a small storage room.

"Tom!" Harry gasped, startled. He looked flustered. "I have to clean the bathroom...the toilet overflowed."

"I see..." Tom replied, smirking. "Would you like me to help you?"

"NO!" Harry screamed, his face burning. "Er, I mean...I really don't want you to see...I don't want you to see it."

"I get it now," Tom said, enjoying this. "Your depository check was denied."

"That's not funny, Tom!" Harry yelled angrily. He stormed up to his room with a bucket and mop. Tom followed him.

"If you use the bathroom not to far from here, you won't be faced with such foul troubles," Tom said, still smirking as he stood in the doorway.

"Thanks for the offer," Harry's voice carried out from the bathroom, "but I like it here."

"You don't mind cleaning up after yourself every time you use the bathroom?" Tom laughed. "Who's room was this before you took it?"

"Hermione's."

"That explains it," Tom said. "Her thick bushy hair clogged your toilet."

"Don't make fun of my friend!" Harry warned. "I don't get it; the toilet was working perfectly fine until now..."

When Harry was done cleaning, he came into view. His eyes landed on Tom, and he quickly broke eye contact.

"Done," he said. "I need to take a shower."

"Take one in our bathroom," Tom insisted.

"I really shouldn't..."

"Why not?" Tom asked, firing up. "Stop the silliness this instant! We're already in plain view of each other. There's no point in hiding from me now."

"Okay," Harry finally said bitterly. "Let me put this back first." He indicated to the mop and bucket.

Tom waited patiently. Once he heard the bathroom door close, he slipped into Harry's bedroom and pulled out his wand...

***

"What did you do to all of my stuff!" Harry demanded, looking enraged. He was still in his bathrobe. "Why can't I get into my room?"

"I moved all of your belongings here," Tom explained calmly. "This is your room. I should have done this earlier. I only allowed you to go to a different room because I felt you needed a little time alone, but this has gone on too long."

"Too long?" Harry repeated angrily.

"Ginny's been dead for a year! Get over it!" Tom snapped, jumping to his feet.

"Get over it? I can't believe you just said that! You killed a little girl! How can anyone get over that?"

"I would kill her again if that little bitch was in front of me -"

"Don't call her names!" Harry screamed. Tom pointed his wand between Harry's eyes; Harry took a step closer, not afraid by Tom's unspoken threat. "Don't you ever think about what you had done?" he asked. "You killed her. You laughed as you watched her die!"

"It was either her or I who was going to survive," Tom said in a dangerously low voice, his eyes narrowed.

"Couldn't both of you have lived somehow?" Harry asked desperately.

"And how would I have done that?" Tom challenged.

"I don't know!" Harry shouted. "Maybe you both could have shared the life force or whatever it was you took from her!"

"Oh, a lovely idea!" Tom said sarcastically, sneering. "Little girl, you don't mind lending me a pint of life, will you? I'm running a little low."

"Don't laugh!" Harry yelled at him. "Can't you understand what you've done?"

"I will never regret killing her!" Tom shouted angrily. "For many months, the brat annoyed me with her endless stories of woe and despair!"

"She's just a little girl! She needed to share her problems with someone!"

"Would you enjoy hearing her silly problems?" Tom demanded angrily. "Every evening it was the same pointless fears about how she had to go to school with second-hand robes or how her brothers always tease her!" His eyes flashed red. "And, of course, her endless worries about how she never thought that you would ever like her..." His mouth stretched into a thin line, and his grip around his wand tightened.

Harry took a step back, looking at Tom strangely. "Are you afraid that if Ginny survived, I would grow to love her?" he asked. Tom blinked. "You're jealous, Tom..."

"Well...would you have?" Tom asked, his voice low again.

"Honestly, I don't know," Harry replied. "There's no way of telling how everything would have turned out if things went differently in the Chamber." He frowned. "I might have killed you that day..." He sighed. "I wish you and Ginny had both lived."

"That wouldn't have been possible," Tom said bitterly.

"There must have been a way, I'm sure!" Harry said sadly.

"You cannot erase what happened in the past! Forget her!" Tom shouted, frustrated.

"I can't!" Harry screamed. "I can't forget what I saw you do to her!"

"Do you want to visit her grave then?" Tom demanded angrily. "Will that take her off your mind? Would you like me to bury you next to her since you obviously like her so much?!"

"No!" Harry said. "I don't want to be buried next to her! You're being ridiculous! I just...I don't know!" He threw himself down on the bed. "This is too confusing for me..." he said in a barely a whisper. Tom watched him closely. "I cannot forget the look on her face as she suffocated to death, but..." He sighed and looked up at Tom. Tom understood what he was going to say. A smug smile flitted across his handsome face; even after witnessing Ginny's murder, Harry still liked him. "Where are my clothes?"

Silently Tom handed him something to wear, and Harry dressed, not bothering to tell Tom to look away. He still looked miserable when he was done.

"Would you like me to take you anywhere?" Tom offered.

"No," Harry said, settling back down on the bed. He got up after a few moments. "I'll look for something to eat," he said.

"Let me take you somewhere."

"No!" Harry said sharply. "No thanks," he said in a kinder voice before leaving the bedroom.

***

To Tom's delight, Harry warmed up towards him as the days went by. Every night, he moved a little closer to Tom before drifting off to sleep. One night he was awoken by Harry's gentle voice, waking him, needing to speak to him...Tom smiled; they were back to how things had been.

A fortnight after Harry returned to sleeping in their room, he gave Tom a soft kiss on his cheek before rolling over in bed. Tom returned the kiss and wrapped his arms around Harry. He held Harry tightly, not wanting anything or anyone to let him slip from his arms again.

The following morning, Harry was distant once more. He had just received a letter from Ron detailing his family's visit to Ginny's grave; it was the anniversary of her death. Tom wanted to kill the Weasley brat for the unwelcome reminder, but he remained calm and patient, determined to get Harry back in his arms.

In the days that followed, Harry fluctuated from being open and responding to Tom's hugs and kisses to being unresponsive to even a greeting. None of this affected Tom. He was going to gain Harry and make him forget about Ginny.

One night, when Harry was responsive to Tom's kisses, he teased Harry's ears with his tongue while tickling him all over his sides.

"Stop it, Tom," Harry laughed. Tom playfully bit his neck and wrestled him on the bed, pinning him hard to the mattress. Harry's laughter at the mock fight sent shivers through Tom's body. How he loved that laughter!

Their little game seemed to have brightened Harry up. The next morning, he spoke more with Tom. It seemed like things were going back to how they should have been all along, although there was still the occasional moment when Harry fell silent.

Tom had almost forgotten how much he enjoyed talking with Harry at night. However, recently their discussions were laced with kisses and soft caresses.

"What's wrong, Tom?" Harry asked one night after Tom gasped and pulled back.

"I..." Tom's voice grew silent. His face flushed at the sensation that was burning between his legs. "I...almost forgot to take a shower tonight, that's all." He left before Harry could ask him another question.

Slipping into the bathroom, Tom pulled off his robes. He examined himself in the full-length mirror, staring at his genitals. It was not the first time his body was in this state, but the feeling this time was more intense, and it was all because he was kissing Harry...

Tom stepped into the shower and turned the faucet on. While he showered, his mind wandered back to Harry on the bed. He imagined he was kissing Harry, caressing him, taking off his night robes...he so caught up in his fantasy that he wasn't aware of where his hands slid down to...

He gave a little gasp of pleasure at the touch. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he told himself he should stop; proper wizards were not supposed to do this...but his fantasy had taken over. He could vividly see Harry in front of him, completely nude on the bed, smiling up at him seductively. Tom knew what Harry looked like...he had seen him naked their first evening in Grindelwald's manor.

He recalled that night into his mind, focusing on the sensitive flesh between Harry's legs.

Harry...

In his mind's eye, Harry was approaching him in the bathroom, looking intently at him with those piercing eyes. The water droplets running down Tom's chest and stomach were Harry's trail of kisses. His hand was Harry's soft hands, working him fast into a sea of ecstasy.

Harry...

Tom's stepped back until his back hit the wall, and he slid down, completely spellbound in his fiery fantasies and sensations. His eyes barely registered the images before him. He was back in their room, kissing Harry fervently and touching him the same way he was stroking himself...

His body shuddered. He gasped as his body went into spasms; for one second, all thought and the ability to see left him...the sensation was more pleasurable than the other times he had done this. In his mind's eye, Harry smiled at him, satisfied.

"Harry..." Tom moaned in a quiet voice, smiling. That's why this feels so good...it's because I'm thinking of you, isn't it?

His hand rolled over to his side. As his head cleared, Tom's smiled disappeared. He looked down at himself, terrified. All thoughts of Harry flew out of his mind.

What have I done? he chastised himself, horrorstruck. What have I done?

***

Harry smiled faintly at Tom when he returned from his shower, but the smile was gone when he saw Tom's face.

"What's wrong?" he asked as Tom settled next to him. His face had gone pale, and his eyes were wide. He didn't look at Harry.

"I have done something that could render me blind," he replied in a tight voice.

"What?" Harry propped himself on one arm. "What did you do?" Tom didn't answer. Harry groaned, wondering what Tom did to endanger himself this way. "Don't tell me you've done something stupid! How are you sure you might become blind?"

"For one moment, I couldn't see anything," Tom explained.

"Why? What does that thing do to you?"

"I'm not sure...I think it stops blood flow to you brain for a few seconds. I could not see or think."

"Maybe you should stop doing whatever it was you were doing," Harry suggested, feeling uneasy from what Tom had just described to him.

"Right," Tom said, still not looking at Harry.

***

Tom awoke during the middle of the night. He and Harry were both sleeping on their stomachs, their faces facing each other. He squirmed on the bed, watching his sleeping friend. His eyes traced Harry's features, paying attention to each individual eyelash and how his soft lips were slightly parted.

To his horror, Tom found himself wanting to touch himself again. He shifted on the bed and shuddered from the wave of pleasure that arouse.

I shouldn't do this! he thought fearfully. He didn't want to risk his eyesight again, but at the same time he liked this strange feeling so much...

"Tom?" Harry asked in a quite voice. He had just awoken and was looking up at Tom with concern. "Are you still worried?"

"Yes," Tom said simply, hoping that Harry will not ask any more questions. Harry covered Tom's hand that was rested between them with his own. He smiled up at Tom.

"It's okay," he said. "I'm here. You'll be okay."

Tom continued watching Harry after he had fallen asleep again. His gesture had comforted him somewhat, but it left Tom feeling guilty about thinking of wanting to touch Harry. He had to remind himself that Harry was turning fourteen in one month.

It's hard to believe he's almost fourteen, Tom thought. One moment he's just a kid, but then the next he seems so wise and mature for his age. He continued to stare at his sleeping companion. A new question rose in his mind. How much does Harry understand about sex?

***

Whenever Harry kissed Tom for a long time, he felt his body reacting in ways that both excited and frightened him. He was embarrassed to tell Tom what was happening to his body, so he made sure Tom did not see what was going on while they kissed before going to bed.

Afterwards, as he waited for sleep to take over, Harry wondered what it would be like to have Tom touch him there. He enjoyed the feeling, but he didn't explore any further, partly because he was embarrassed about Tom catching him.

The weather was becoming hotter every day. There were no air conditioners in the manor, but Harry adapted by stripping down to his underwear. Tom did not mind this as long as Harry kept to their room; he had to be fully dressed during lessons and meals.

Tom knew a spell that could make a room colder, but the spell wore off after an hour, and the cooling spell had to be performed again. One afternoon, after Tom had gone to take a shower, the spell's effect faded.

Harry groaned; he didn't know how to perform the spell, so he took off his underwear instead. He lay on the bed on his back, wishing the faint gust of air could cool his body.

The heat is worse than last year, he thought grumpily. If it doesn't get better, I'm moving into an ice cream shop!

"Harry!" he heard a gasp. He opened his eyes and saw that Tom had just entered the room and was looking at him with wide eyes. "What did I tell you about modesty in this manor?" he chastised angrily. "I don't mind you lying about without clothes, but I will not tolerate this!"

"Well, sorry!" Harry yelled at him as he quickly sat up and covered a blanket over his crouch. "Nobody told you to stand there and stare at me!" He blushed. "You were looking at me," he said accusingly.

"I've already seen you naked before," Tom reminded him. He crossed the room and turned around to face Harry. "Remember now?"

"Yes, that night when you took away my mortality," Harry said, looking disturbed. After a while, he continued, "What did you do me back then?"

"I didn't do anything to you," Tom explained calmly. "I commanded you to do it."

"And you watched?" Harry asked, wondering what Tom commanded him to do.

"I had to collect something from you, what do you expect!" Harry still looked bothered. Coming to a decision, Tom stepped closer to the bed. "Harry, look at me," he said.

Harry turned his head just as Tom slipped his bathrobes off his shoulders. Not able to stop himself, Harry's eyes scanned down Tom's body.

"We're even now," Tom said. A corner of his mouth curled. "There is no need to be embarrassed, Harry."

"You look a little different than me," Harry said, meeting his eyes.

"You've never seen one of your dormmates nude?"

"No. Why would I pay attention if I need to get dressed?" Harry said. Tom laughed. Harry pulled away his blanket, exposing himself to Tom. Harry continued to study Tom's body, his face still burning. "You look...very handsome," he said after a while.

"Thank you," Tom said. "You're very beautiful yourself, Harry."

Harry laughed. "You're kidding me! How am I beautiful?"

"Still denying your worth, I see," Tom stated, observing Harry's body. Harry bit his lower lip and began to chuckle. His face turned redder.

"You're..." he pointed down.

It was Tom's turn to chuckle. "I cannot help it...I'm reacting to you, Harry. Look, it's happening to your body too!"

Harry covered himself with his hands. "This is embarrassing!"

"What's so embarrassing about it?" Tom asked.

"It just is!"

"But isn't this what happens to people who love each other?"

"Yes," Harry replied after a while. Tom drew closer, smiling at him. He bent down and met Harry's mouth, and Harry tilted back until both were lying on the bed. They wrapped their arms around each other, but Harry broke the kiss when the feeling below became too intense.

"Sorry," he said.

"I understand," Tom said as he rolled off Harry. Harry's eyes fell back to Tom's groin, and his face burned again as the feeling continued to mount. His hands covered his groin, and he breathed hard. When was the feeling going to subside? Tom continued to watch him, a look of realization on his face.

"How much do you know about sex?" he asked

"No one ever told me anything about it," Harry confessed. "All I really know is that that's how we were conceived."

"I know mostly the scientific part of it," Tom said. "I could teach you about what's happening to your body right now. You probably should loosen your grip down there. You might hurt yourself." Harry quickly let go. "That doesn't mean you have to stop, though." There was nervousness in his voice now. "Would you like me to...help you?"

Harry didn't respond, but the look on his face was all Tom needed. Harry settled back on the bed, inviting Tom with his eyes. Tom moved closer to Harry, stretching his hand out towards Harry's groin. Their eyes locked together; Tom smiled comfortingly, and Harry returned it, feeling at ease with Tom's hand on his body.

***

"I'm sorry," Harry said when he was done.

Tom laughed. "Stop apologizing!" he said, poking Harry's belly with one finger. He indicated to his hand. "I will just go and wash this off, all right?" Harry nodded; he sat up after Tom left the room.

Harry smiled contently, waiting for Tom to return. This was the first time he remembered experiencing a climax. I must return the favor for Tom, he thought affectionately.

***

Douglas Avery smiled as he sat in his comfy living room, watching the sun set and thinking just how good life was. A warm blanket was draped over his bony legs. Beside him on a small table was a cup of green tea. Next to the tea cup was a picture frame. It showed a much younger version of himself with a smiling young woman on his arm; both were wearing wedding robes.

My dear Audrey, he thought, smiling sadly at his late wife. Not a day goes by without me remembering you. He sighed sadly. She had been murdered by one of Lord Voldemort's servants after he had refused to join Voldemort.

How much he had changed since he left Hogwarts, Mr. Avery thought darkly. Behind that angelic face of his was a black heart. I had always sensed it in him. Though he may have been brilliant, he had strange interests. He was too obsessed with the Dark Arts. Every day in Hogwarts he discussed Dark magic and ways to achieve total power and immortality, as if that were even possible! A smart lad like him should have realized how foolish it was...

"Good evening, Papa," Derek, his son, greeted politely from behind.

"Son," Mr. Avery said. "How was your day, dear boy?"

"It went very fine, Papa," he said sweetly. "Would you like me to lead you to your bed?"

"Oh, if that's all right with you," Mr. Avery said. Derek offered him his hand, but once he held his son's hand, Mr. Avery felt a familiar tug.

Before he knew it, he landed in an unfamiliar room; it was darker here than at his home. Derek took off the ring that functioned as a Portkey from his finger and threw it aside. He pointed his wand at his father.

"Son? What is the meaning of this?" Mr. Avery demanded.

"Hello, Douglas," a high-pitched voice greeted coldly behind him. He turned around and met eyes with a strange creature. It looked like a withered baby with vibrant red eyes.

"Tom!" Mr. Avery said, his body running cold.

"Don't call me by that filthy Muggle name!" Lord Voldemort hissed.

"What do you want with me and my family?"

"I have requested my servant to bring his father to me."

Mr. Avery turned around, looking at his son with shock as everything became clear to him.

"No..." he moaned. "No, no...not my son! He's bluffing, isn't he, Derek?" Derek rolled his eyes and pulled his sleeve back, exposing the Dark Mark on his left forearm. "No!" He turned back around at Lord Voldemort. "How long has my son been a Death Eater?" he demanded angrily.

"For many years," Lord Voldemort informed him, sneering. "Unlike you, he saw the bright future of entering my services. But do not fret, dear Douglas. I will offer you one last chance to join me. You always enjoyed my company when we were schoolboys."

Mr. Avery's eyes never left Lord Voldemort's. He didn't hold any fear him at that moment. The filthy bastard had been tearing his family apart for many years behind his back!

"Join you?" Mr. Avery spat. "I'd much sooner swallow a glass full of dragon manure than ever think of submitting to you, scum!"

Lord Voldemort hissed loudly and angrily; his eyes flashed dangerously. But Mr. Avery did not flinch. The anger from all those years began spilling out; his lower lips quivered. "For many years I regretted knowing you! You were nothing but trouble! All I wanted was a normal life! You took away my wife! It was out of spite, wasn't it?"

Lord Voldemort pointed his wand at him. "Go ahead and murder me!" Mr. Avery screamed frantically. Behind him, Derek's eyebrows rose, looking worried.

"Papa," he started.

"Many years I regretted ever talking to you!" Tears were running down Mr. Avery's pale face. "You have no idea of the damage you have done to me, to them! I, Garfield, Marilyn, and Eileen especially held you at such high regard! What did you give us in return? You've done the same to Garfield Lestrange as you're doing to me right now!"

"Papa!" Derek tried again, desperate to get his father to calm down.

"I'd much rather be poor Marilyn right now; she died before having to ever see what you've done in the past twenty years! Not one night passes without me thinking back to the news of bloodshed caused by you! When is this going to end, Tom? I cared for you! Why did you do this? I considered you my closest friend! You had a great potential; why did you choose this path? You're an enemy to the purebloods as much as to the Muggle-borns!"

"Avada-"

"May you suffer for your every crime!" Mr. Avery shrieked frantically.

"-Kedavra!"

***

Tom had that dream again. He was chasing Harry through many unfamiliar corridors in Hogwarts. He could feel Rosier and Prince right behind him, but he could not see them even if he turned around.

This dream was different from last time. Harry was laughing good-heartedly as he continually slipped out of Tom's reach. Tom grinned; they were playing a game.

Harry turned a corner and disappeared. Tom looked around himself. He was staring at an empty, small, deserted corridor. At that instant, he stopped sensing his old schoolmates over his shoulder. A chill ran down his spine.

"Harry?" Tom called out. He couldn't hear Harry anymore. Before him was a tiny dark room. He peeked inside then jumped back when a figure slouched forward.

"Avery?" Tom questioned. He could recognize that hair anywhere! But when Avery raised his head, Tom did not see a young lad with the goofy innocent grin. It was an old man, wrinkled, pale, and troubled. Even his hair had changed appearance in that instance, turning from light brown to grey.

"Terrible boy," Mr. Avery said in a shaky voice. "Look at what you've done to me and my family!"

"Douglas?" Tom said. "I don't know what you're talking about!" Mr. Avery grew closer, glaring at Tom with the most hatred Tom had ever seen in anyone's eyes.

"May you suffer for your every crime!" he cursed in a voice that shot immense pain throughout Tom's body. Douglas took his last breath, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he fell into Tom's arms.

"Douglas!"

Tom awoke at that moment, the pain still lingering. He looked around himself. He was no longer in the eerie, cold corridor; he was back in bed, lightly sweating from the heat. Harry slept curled against his body.

He closed his eyes, trying to get back to sleep, but the image of his old friend seemed to have burned in his mind, and Douglas Avery's final words still echoed in his ears.

***

Derek let out a little scream as his father crashed onto the floor and did not move. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to erase the image from his mind. My service and loyalty to Lord Voldemort far exceeds my loyalty to my father! he tried to remind himself.

"I smell guilt in the air," Lord Voldemort said.

Derek opened his eyes. "Please, sir, you must understand that this man raised me. But I do not argue with your decision. If you believe that he is best dead, then I concur!"

Lord Voldemort chuckled. "Such loyalty. You've done well in my service, Avery. I have one last request from you."

"I will do anything you command me," Avery said, bowing.

Lord Voldemort turned to the other two Death Eaters in the room. "Wormtail, Rookwood...take Avery into the lab room, kill him, and put every one of his organs in jars." Derek's face had gone white.

"What?" he said shakily.

"You have said that you would do anything I request from you," Lord Voldemort explained in a mockingly caring voice. "I request to have each and every one of your organs. They could prove to be helpful to me; you will serve me as a corpse."

Lord Voldemort sneered. He's doing this out of hatred for my father! he thought anxiously. Wormtail and Rookwood gripped his shoulders.

"You can't do this!" he begged his master. "Give me another task! I don't want to die! You said we'll all be immortals!"

Lord Voldemort laughed, but he did not respond to Derek's plea. He motioned for Wormtail and Rookwood to take Avery away.

At that moment, he heard Nagini slither towards him.

***

"Avada Kedavra! Nagini raised her head just as an elderly male human fell to the floor. Her lord had done something with his wand, but Nagini did not know what it was.

She was about to put her head down again when she smelt the stench coming from a corpse. Raising her head again, she realized that the smell was coming from the male human on the floor. He was dead.

She looked up at her lord. His wand had made the human die, but she could not fathom why. Her lord did not eat the human, and there didn't seem a fight going on. She waited until the three other humans left the room before she slithered towards him.

"My lord, why did you kill the male?" she questioned. He was staring at the corpse with a strange glint in his eyes. For the first time ever, Nagini felt fear run through her spine. She could now smell something else now, an awful stench coming from her lord. She sensed something had happened inside him, but she didn't know what it could be. She had to get away!

Before she could slither away, her lord pointed his wand at her.

"Creo Horcrux."

***

"I want to go to the Quidditch World Cup with Ron and Hermione," Harry said in Parseltongue while they walked down the aisle of the vast pet shop. It was late July, and the boys spent most of their time outside looking at shops and staying in cool places. Every day they explored a little more of the shops and buildings around them, occasionally venturing out to other towns to try out new restaurants. When no one was around, their fingers entwined around each other.

"Why do you want to go?" Tom asked. They only spoke Parseltongue in quiet voices if they discussed matter pertaining to their world lest a Muggle could overhear them.

"You know how much I love Quidditch!" Harry said. Tom snorted.

"If you ask me, it's just a waste of time," he said bitterly as Harry observed a ball python in one of the tanks.

"If you ask me, everything you humans do is a waste of time," the ball python said. Harry snickered and Tom scowled. Taking his hand, Harry led him to another part of the pet shop.

"It's not a waste of time," Harry said. "Quidditch is the only sport that doesn't require bulging muscles to play...unless if you're a Beater, but that's not the point. You need to have good coordination and strong strategic skills. It's almost like chess, but with flying balls and broomsticks. It's the first sport I was ever good at." He laughed. "Come to think of it, I think I would still be awful in basketball. My role in Quidditch is just to fly after a Golden Snitch."

Tom rolled his eyes.

"Give me a good reason why we cannot go," Harry said.

"For one, are you forgetting that the Ministry is still after me?" Tom replied. "And who are you going to contact? Your Weasley friend could report me!"

"We can get around that," Harry said calmly. "I will write a letter to Hermione."

"She hates me as well."

"But she knows that it's better if you are with me rather than with the Ministry." Tom raised an eyebrow. "I'll explain things to her; she'll understand! And I have an Invisibility Cloak we can use; no one can see us."

Tom stopped in his tracks. "You never told me about an Invisibility Cloak!"

"It was my father's" Harry explained. "What do you think, then?"

"We are not going!" he insisted. "We could be using the time for some other activity."

"We have an eternity to do other things!" Harry whined.

They passed a cage full of budgerigars. One of the green budgerigars was viciously biting the cage bars and looking up at them as though inviting them to play with her.

"Did you know that I am ahead of my classmates?" Harry asked as he played with the overexcited budgie. "We're in the middle of fourth year material. Of course, Hermione is familiar with what I'm studying, but I'm still ahead of Ron and all the others. I think I deserve a reward."

Tom watched him for a long time. A large red parrot was nibbling Tom's ear from her stand.

"I will bring a book with me," he finally said.

"So we can go?" Harry asked.

Tom nodded. "As long as we use your Invisibility Cloak, and as long as only Granger knows we're attending." Smiling, Harry walked over to him and kissed Tom swiftly on the lips.

***

Nagini never felt more alive in her life. She understood everything that Wormtail and Rookwood said, and she felt her lord's emotions well up inside her.

One afternoon, Wormtail ran into the room with some urgent news.

"The Mudblood received a letter," Wormtail informed her lord, panting. "She did not tell the Weasley boy, but I read the note over her shoulder. The Potter boy and your younger self will be attending the Quidditch World Cup."

"Under the Minister's nose?" Lord Voldemort questioned.

"The Potter boy said they will be under an Invisibility Cloak," Wormtail added. "I have seen him use it before, master!"

Lord Voldemort nodded. Down on the floor, Nagini nodded as well. Excitement washed over her. The Potter brat was going to be right where she could reach out and snatch him.

Slithering quickly until she was right beside her lord, she raised her head and listened to Lord Voldemort's plan...