Disclaimers: Harry Potter isn't mine *flings self off cliff*

Pairing/s: Tom Riddle/Harry (aka, Harrison Evans) Potter, one sided Abraxas Malfoy/Harry (aka Harrison Evans) Potter

Warnings: Adult themes, minor drug usage, violence, dubious consent, and language.

Setting: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1943

Summary: Harrison Evans is the Slytherin's 'pet lion.' But what happens when one Slytherin forgets that the only person Harry belongs to is Tom Riddle?


Chapter 3: Closure

Well that had been a waste of his magic. Tom sighed as he walked into his Perfect's room. It had been a long night, even by his standards. Without care he began disrobing, tossing his clothes on the ground carelessly. The house elves would clean it all up in the morning. Right now all he wanted to do was sink into his bed and sleep. Good thing it was Friday. After he was down to his boxers, and had cast a few protective spells on his room, (just a routine precaution) Tom headed over to his king-sized bed.

As one to have only have the best, Tom's bed was covered in fine Egyptian cotton sheets in various shades of green, black, and silver. At the headboard there was an absurd amount of fluffy pillows, all stuffed with the finest and softest swan feathers he could buy. But the best feature that his bed came with was the small Gryffindor sleeping soundly therein.

Slightly peeking out from underneath the green comforter, was a head of unruly jet black hair. He knew from personal experience that although gravity defying, and very stubborn, Harrison's hair was quite possibly the softest thing in existence. And it smelled great too; like sweet olives.

The boy lay perfectly still; almost too still. The only sign that he was ok was the soft rise and fall of his chest underneath the covers. The sleeping spell he had used was very extensive, knocking out its target and putting them into an almost coma-like sleep. With the reaction Harrison had shown to Tom's ah…methods of persuasion, he didn't want the boy reliving any of those moments, even in his dreams.

In the orphanage Tom quickly established himself as Harrison's protector, and those that hurt him were of course punished. But every time Harry found out about his retribution to the other kids, he would get all distressed and bothered by it; wouldn't talk to Tom for days. So he learned at early age to not allow his dealing become known to smaller boy. After all, in some cases, ignorance really was bliss. Tom knew that if he did in fact kill Abraxas, Harry's guilt would eat him up inside.

Harrison, with his big, stupid Gryffindor heart would undoubtedly be broken by the experience. Generally, Harrison didn't bother with any of his plans, and thus remained unaffected by them. The night he tortured and murdered his family, Harrison didn't lose any sleep. Well he did, but that was for a completely and more…pleasurable reason. But that always seemed to change when Harrison himself felt responsible for Tom's actions.

But that was neither here, nor there. Right now, it was time for sleep. In the morning he would wake up and set things right. Until then he just wanted to cuddle next to his boyfriend.


X


All he knew was that he didn't want to get out of bed. It was warm, and cozy, and just…very warm. He smiled sleepily, briefly wondering what good he done in the world that had granted him early access to heaven. Because this was surely heaven. There was nothing he liked more than being nestled under the covers of a luxurious bed. Comfort was something never allowed to any of the kids (let alone someone like him) at the orphanage. Their beds were nothing but old, flee bitten mattress on a squeaky frame. And the covers were always old and dingy; looking as if they had belonged to some old cat women.

But not anymore. Not since he came to Hogwarts. And especially not since Tom-

Oh shit!

Immediately emerald green eyes snapped opened, and Harrison Evans was jumping out of bed. His feet weren't as steady as he could have hoped for, and he collapsed on the ground. It wasn't a dream. Last night had happened. With Abraxas, and Tom, and the Chamber, and…and it really wasn't just some horrible dream that his mind had concocted. It was all real. For a moment Harrison found himself feeling slightly nauseous and dizzy as he momentarily relived last night.

It was morning now though, so what happened? He remembered finding the body, explaining his side of the story to Tom. After that it seemed like things were going to be ok, but then…Tom had tried to kill Abraxas! And then more stuff that made the bile in the back of his throat almost push its way out of his mouth, and onto the carpet. And then…nothing. After that it was blank, until he woke up in Tom's room. With no Tom present. Good, that meant he had time to think of a plan.

Ok, at some point Tom must have brought him back to the room. Assuming that he hadn't slept for some ungodly amount of time, it had to be Saturday, which meant no classes. Good. Next on the agenda; where was Tom? He wasn't sure where Tom was. Little known fact about the Slytherin heir; Tom was not a morning person. He was certinatly up when he had to be, always ready for the day. But whenever he was allowed it, Tom would sleep in until well past noon. So if he wasn't there, then he was probably doing…something. Which meant that Harrison could make his escape-

Click

Bloody hell.

He couldn't see Tom enter into the room with the bed blocking his view from the ground, but the rustle clothes was more than enough to give him away. As if the door hadn't been clue enough.

Already he felt nervousness and anxiety grab a hold of him. What was going to happen? Things from last night certinatly hadn't been resolved. He didn't know what had happened to Abraxas, but knew that he would have to get some answers. The idea of confronting Tom again made him almost sick to his stomach and light headed. A slight sweat broke out on his forehead and the room started fading in and out. Dear Merlin, if he fainted now he'd never forgive himself. How utterly melodramatic and un-Gryffindor of him.

He wasn't paying attention when he felt a cool hand press itself to his temple. Man that felt good. Why on earth was he so hot? He didn't have a cold.

"Harry, look at me." The command was gentle, yet broke no room for disobedience. Unwilling to fight the good fight just yet, Harrison gave in without a protest, staring into Tom's concerned hazel eyes.

Concern? Why on earth would he be concerned? He didn't have time to ponder it before being swept up off the ground, and into Tom's arms. He squirmed about, not wanting to be held in such a close proximity to the older boy. His feeble attempts were of course ignored as Tom carried him to the big bathroom.

The gigantic bathtub was already filled with water and bubbles. Tom muttered a quick warming charm, and the once placid surface of the bath was churning, emitting tuffs of vapors into the room. A quick sweep of his hand and both of them were completely starkers. Had this been any other moment he would have found the time to ogle the hard and muscular planes of Tom's chest and broad shoulders, and revel in the strong biceps that cradled him.

The years at the orphanage had affected both Tom and Harrison in different ways as far as physique went. Hard labor and chores were something all the children had to partake in. With their 'freakiness' however, the hardest tasks were left up to them. Growing up, Harrison had always been a little scrawny with a weak immune system, often catching cold. To avoid the harsh punishment of what Miss. Cole considered laziness, Tom usually picked up his slack. And although it had been hell then, the after effects were more than…thoroughly appreciated now.

Or at least would have, under a different set of circumstances.

With the water now warm enough to indulge in, Tom lowered them into the bath, sitting on the bathtub's inner shelf, until Harrison was emerged up to his neck. The water was relaxing and against his will, Harrison felt himself slump into Tom, flopping his head on those wonderful shoulders of his, and closing his eyes. The steam vapors swirled in the air, and he was beginning to lose some of the hysteria he had been feeling before.

There was no point in rushing into their impending conversation. When Tom was ready to speak; he would. And then he would have the answers to his questions. Until then, he could pretend, if only for a couple of moments, that everything was ok.


X


As expected, the bath was doing wonders. He had been almost-dare he say it-startled, when he walked into his room and saw Harrison on the floor, looking for the life of him as if he were about to have some sort of panic attack. It was all very uncharacteristic of the petite boy.

He had just stepped out of the room to grab some food from the kitchen. He was assuming Harrison hadn't eaten last night, and wanted to have something ready for him when he woke up. Obviously that didn't go as planned. But at least he was calming down now. He felt some of the boy's tension slip away. Good. He didn't plan on doing anything until he was sure his boy could handle it. There would not be another repeat of last night.

As loath as he was to admit it, Tom Riddle had lost control last night. A very long time ago Tom had discovered that emotions were nothing more than a hindrance. They clouded a person's judgment, made them act irrationally, and were capable of bringing even the strongest of men crashing down to their knees. It was just pathetic, and he never wanted that person to be him. So he locked them all away, and there, he intended for them to remain. But that didn't work out either since at some point (he couldn't exactly pinpoint when) he fell in love with Harrison Evans.

Looking back on it, the whole notion of being with Harrison didn't come as a surprise to him. The boy was undeniably strong, beautiful, and trustworthy. Even as children Harrison had a sway on him. As they grew up and were finally able to escape the confines of the orphanage, Tom had been only slightly surprised by the strength of their friendship. Indeed, he had not though it possible of surviving after the Sorting Hat had placed Harry in Gryffindor.

But the boy was persistent, and it became clear to Tom that Harrison was not above changing the status quo. After all, Tom was his 'best friend.' He remembered feeling strangely…elated when Harrison told him that. Perhaps at that point he should have been worried. But he didn't, because nothing compared to how he felt when he was with Harry. There was a sense of belonging, tenderness, and a whole myriad of other emotions that Tom had gone so long without. And as they grew older and their relationship progressed, becoming stronger with time and acceptance, it was only a matter of time before Tom found himself faced with yet another emotion; jealousy.

Before Harrison, Tom had never been jealous of anything. Yes he wanted things, but he always found a way to get them. And to him, being jealous meant you wanted something, but were incapable of getting it. Well Tom wasn't incapable of anything. So he would have Harrison's time, and those smiles, and his laughter, and everything the boy had to offer…because he wanted them. And Tom always got what he wanted.

With a clear view of his goal and how to obtain it, Tom found himself trying to be with Harrison in a different way. And yes of course, he had been with other people before, (both men and women) but they were never anything serious. They had always been means to an end, or a way to satisfy his carnal desires. None of them mattered. But Harry mattered, and he wanted nothing more (no matter how much he tried to deny it to himself) then to matter to Harry too.

His courtship of Harrison had been…interesting. For the first time in his life, Tom had been unsure of himself. Harry wasn't vain or superficial, so his stature in the school, his looks, and basically everything that other people admired about him, had no merit. Of course Harry was defiantly physically and sexually attracted to him, but Tom craved more than that.

Summer had been a big turning point for both of them. The events that took place were finally what sealed the deal for Tom. Harrison was willing to accept, and even love him, despite all his obvious…quirks. He knew that people were always willing to overlook parts of a person that they didn't like, but Harry didn't ignore any part of him. And that acceptance was Tom's final straw.

He glanced down at Harrison's weary face from the corner of his eye. His normally vibrant green eyes were dull and almost void. Tom didn't like that look, and certinatly didn't like that he was responsible for it. He knew what had to be done.

"Abraxas is still in the Chamber," he said casually, while situating Harrison until he was straddling his lap. He wanted those eyes on him at all times. "He is currently in a healing stasis being channeled by my magic, until he not so close to the brink of death. I expect he will need to remain till late Sunday."

Tension hung in the air as Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. So he had actually believed Tom was going to kill the Malfoy. Good, because he certinatly was about to.

He could see the Gryffindor had questions, and waited patiently until he was able to form them.

"He's going to be ok?"

Idly Tom began rubbing his hands up and down Harrison's back, before answering with vague disinterest. "Yes, I daresay he will be…this time." He looked into Harrison's eyes with his own, wanting him to know how deadly serious he was. "But if something like this should happen again…with anyone, I'll kill them. And there won't be anything you can do that will stop me. I'm a very possessive man Harrison, and you know this. I don't share kindly with others, and will handle them accordingly for touching what does not belong to them. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," came the breathy whisper.

"Good," he responded before leaning forward and sealing the deal with a kiss. His hands glided up from Harrison's back, and entangled themselves into his hair, pulling him closer. He caressed the back part where he had cruelly tugged on Harry's locks the night before, and felt him sigh dreamily and moan into Tom's mouth.

He used that moment to glide his tongue in-between Harrison's soft lips, coaxing his tongue to come out and play. A smirk graced his lips when Harry complied, scooting forward voluntarily until their naked arousals were flush against each other.

A husky groan erupts form Harrison's mouth and its music to Tom's ears. He can't help but relish in the fact that he's the cause. That he, Tom-fucking-Riddle is the only person that will ever see or hear Harrison cry out in pleasure like that. Only him. Because Harrison is only his. And he will never share, and he will never let go.

He allows Harry to direct the kiss, leaving his hair and traveling down the slim waist pressed up against him. He's so fucking hard, and each little squirm that Harry does (involuntary or otherwise) is driving him insane. But he wants more, and grabs hold of the smaller boy's hips, and grinding against him.

Unable to contain himself it seems, Harrison releases his hold on Tom's mouth, instead choosing to slump against Tom's chest and writhe in passion.

"T…Tom…mmmm," the rest is lost in translation, being smothered as Harrison hides his face in Tom's shoulders. But the Slytherin heir is unmerciful and demands to hear his praises being sung. He stops moving.

"What where you going to say Harry?" he asks innocently enough while nibbling on the exposed flesh of Harry's neck.

Of course Harry knows there is nothing innocent about his boyfriend, and blushes brightly; his face turning a marvelous shade of pink. Tom smirks as he makes out a few words that sound like 'bastard,' and 'more.' But it isn't enough. He needs to hear him say it.

"What do you want Harry?" he mumbles against Harrison now blotchy neck. He feels Harry trying to cheat and move on his own volition, but Tom quickly seizes hold of the boy's hips. "Say it," he commands sharply.

"I want you! Please…so just-"

"Harry... all you had to do was ask," he chuckled darkly before taking hold of his boyfriend, pulling both of them simultaneously out of the hot bathwater. His little lion needed him; who was he to deny such a request.


X


Harrison Evans woke for the second time that day, very warm and very cozy. But even more so since part of the warmth was coming from the body of his boyfriend that was wrapped securely around him. Another little known fact about Tom; he was an outrageous cuddler. Perhaps due to the amount of neglect both had suffered at the orphanage, Tom (to some unspoken extent) thoroughly enjoyed closeness and touching. He was never one to instigate it when they were in public (that was always him) but he never denied Harrison his touch whenever asked, no matter where they were. But when they were alone amongst silk sheets, Tom was always the first to drag Harrison over to his side of the bed. Not that Harry minded at all.

The warmth of Tom's chest against his back, and the muscular arm that held him taught was just what needed after that rug-burn inducing shag they had on the carpet. He'd have Tom put some ointment on his back and bum later.

"Finally awake," stated the hazy voice behind him as he felt elegant fingers begin raking through this hair. Harrison just shivered, enjoying the sensations until he felt Tom's finger began caressing lower towards the base his neck. It was still a little sore back there from all the tugging he endured in the Chamber.

Tom's fingers slid over the spot gently, probably taking note of the small bump to be found back there. Unwilling to start any more confrontation, Harrison just remained quiet.

Suddenly he felt a cooling sensation from Tom's fingertips, and a second later the slight pain he had been feeling there was gone.

"Better?"

"Yes, thanks."

"Turn over." Harrison did as he was told, switching his position until he was facing Tom. He waited until the older had rewrapped himself around him, knowing that he would speak only when he was ready.

"You know I graduate in a few months." It was a statement, not a question. Because Tom knew that Harrison knew, that graduation was only a short time away. He had tried to ignore the idea of Tom leaving, hoping that he would have more time in his fantasy world. A place where Tom wouldn't be leaving him alone. This was the first time, either of them had commented on it.

"You'll finally be free to…to...do what you want," he said in a carefree tone that certinatly didn't match the way he felt on the inside. Tom seemed to sense his real inner feelings, and went back to gently stroking his hair.

Man, he really didn't want to have this conversation. He didn't want to hear about Tom leaving Hogwarts. Because that would mean Tom leaving him. And really, with Tom, it was hard to imagine him ever coming back. And that scared Harrison to death.

Yes, he knew Tom cared about him, but that wasn't a guarantee for anything…more. And if he were completely honest with himself, Harrison wanted more with Tom. But it was best to stay clear of that kind of thinking. Nothing was promised, especially with the one and only Slytherin heir. He turned his head and burrowed into the older boy's chest. He didn't want to start crying again.

"You're so easy to read Harry. Such a Gryffindor, I don't know how I ever managed to put up with you," Tom rasped out in between laughter. What was so bloody funny? Harrison scowled, looking up at Tom and was about to give him a piece of his 'Gryffindor' mind when he was cut off.

"-and I don't know how I'll manage to keep doing it in the future, but I'll figure something out." As he spoke Tom turned around and pulled something from underneath his pillow. Harrison's eyes widened; it was the ring Tom found during the summer! Ok, maybe 'found' was the wrong word, but that wasn't the point.

He stared awestruck as Tom held it in front of him.

"Of course this isn't the real ring. Yours will be much more fitting." He could understand why too. Although well crafted and certinatly valuable, it was…a little too 'much' for him. But he understood the gesture and at that point, a piece of string would have been more than enough.

"I can't promise that I'll be 'good' or that I won't hurt people. Because I'm not good, and I like hurting people." If Harrison hadn't been so riveted by the present conversation he probably would have rolled his eyes. Tom was such a psycho. "But…I'll be good to you, and I won't hurt you. That is all I can offer."

And it was more than enough.


El Fin


First, I would like to thank everyone for their support and encouragement. It means so much to me that you guys enjoyed this! And I know I said there was going to be some 'mature content,' but as the story progressed it just seemed a little out of place. Don't worry…next time you heathens will get your smut though! Promise :)

Soooo, about next time… I know I said I'd look into doing a prequel of sorts, and I still defiantly plan on doing it! But I've had some other ideas floating around in my mind, so I just wanted to inform everyone that the prequel might not be the first thing I'm going to write.

To be honest the idea of starting from Tom's childhood and developing both Harry and Tom into semi-real and interesting characters is going to take a lot of work, and I want to dabble more in that area before taking the plunge. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is better than some good ass characters. At least to me ^_^

And I just love playing with Tom because he is so 3 dimensional, complex, and intricate. Especially when you toss in a polar opposite like Harry, and I just want to do both the characters justice. And of course, give you guys something good to read as well.

Also, while there was a plot to this story, it was rather simple since I choose to make this a short little teaser. Anything full length I want to have more substance. So thinking up a really really good storyline is something that I'll be working on.

Until then, some things I'm looking at are a sort of werewolf Tom/Harry thing. Or maybe even something else…just as long as it's AU. I think writing them outside of the 'magical' world will help in their individual development.

Of course if you guys have any ideas, or things you might like to see, feel free to let me know! I like to think that while I'm also writing for my own personal enjoyment, you all play a crucial role in my process.

And wow…this is a really long AN O_O

Hahaha thanks again to everyone! Defiantly couldn't have finished without all your kind words and feedback. Until next time…

*smooooooocchhhhhh!*

-Peacock