Chapter Text
Tom had always been a secretive person. Even when he was a little boy, he never revealed any of his secrets, even if it meant getting caned by the matron.
When it first happened, he was thoroughly confused. For weeks, he could not understand what was happening to him.
It took him years to understand what was happening to him.
A variation of Multiple Identity Disorder. That’s what the healer called it. More magical than the muggle one.
His other self was not much different from him.
Both of them hated the muggles and did not mind killing and torture.
But still, he did not like his other self. He did not like losing control over his own body.
Everytime he had an episode, or in other words, his other self took over him, which was usually for three hours, they would pass out and Tom would not remember anything that happened during that time.
Sometimes, Tom would wake up with blood all over him, and see the news of the murder on the WizTV.
The thing about his other self is that he was damn good at killing.
Nobody had ever found out who was behind the killings, as not a single trace was left behind by the killer (his other self ), except for a tattoo on the victim's left forearm.
‘The Dark Mark’, the people liked to call it.
Still, Tom did not like it, and had grudgingly gone to a mind healer, to stop his other self from taking over. (Though Nadia, his mind healer, never knew the name of his other self)
His medications helped keep his episodes at bay, but sometimes, out of blue, his other self took over.
For many years, Tom worked on inventing a cure for his problem, a potion, spell, ritual, charm, anything to stop his inner monster. But he always failed.
He had almost lost hope, when one day (or truthfully, a week), a miracle happened.
Tom had met Harry during his travels.
Harry Potter was a year below him at Hogwarts, a Gryffindor, youngest seeker of the century, the Quidditch Captain and the orphan son of Lily and James Potter. The boy was well-known in school, but somehow, Tom had never talked with him.
(Well, maybe because the Slytherins did not like the Gryffindors and never went out of their way to talk with those reckless idiots, and Tom was a Slytherin. Also maybe because he wasn’t interested in Quidditch at all and had never seen a single match in his seven years at Hogwarts.)
They were both in Australia, in the same library, and were searching for the same book (Defensive and Offensive Curses), when they had met.
Tom, who had never felt any kind of attraction for a single human being in his whole life, was tongue-tied when Harry had smiled at him.
‘Wow’ was the only thought in his mind when he had stumbled into Harry and stared in his grass green eyes.
Somehow, during his stay in Australia, the two of them had bonded over. As friends.
(Everytime they talked, Tom had to stop himself from acting like a smitten idiot. It was hard.)
Never in his entire life, Tom had felt so strongly for anyone.
After leaving Australia, Tom had gone to Japan, but exchanged frequent letters with Harry.
(And even called him sometimes.)
Three years later, he returned back to England, coincidentally, or maybe not, the same week as Harry decided to settle down in England.
Harry had decided to join the Aurors, whereas Tom decided to work as the Junior Undersecretary of the Minister of Magic.
They frequently met and had lunch during the break, sometimes going together for drinks.
Finally, six months later, Harry confessed his attraction to him, and they kissed each other in the dirty club near Knockturn Alley, but it was the happiest moment of his life.
They started dating after that, which Tom had never thought he would ever do.
His colleagues teased him that Harry had him wrapped around his little finger, and maybe it was true, but Tom wouldn’t change it for anything.
Tom loved Harry Potter.
Of course, there had to be something to ruin his perfect life with Harry.
And it was his other self.
For some reason, he hated Harry.
Tom got to know about his other self’s opinion about Harry when he had blacked out and woken up covered in blood, with everything around him destroyed beyond repair.
Every photo he and Harry had taken, the gifts from Harry, the matching T-shirts they owned, the flowers Harry had given him in the morning the earlier day.
Everything.
Tom was distraught when he had seen the damage, and did not even realize when Harry had flooed inside his house.
Harry had asked him with alarm about what had happened, why was Tom covered in blood, was he hurt and all.
Not a single word spilled out of his hand at first, but then, when it did, it was a lie.
“Someone got inside my house when I was asleep. A burglar, I think. I- I tried to stop them, but they got me. I- I’m so sorry Harry. All our things. Oh Merlin. I had taken them out yesterday to clean the wardrobe, but, but slept before I could put it all inside. I’m so sorry, oh Merlin, I’m so sorry Harry.”
Harry, the sweet boy, had believed every lie that came out of Tom’s mouth, and had decided that it might be The Killer (him) who had attacked Tom.
It took him a few minutes to realize that Harry was quite tense himself.
“What happened?” Tom asked.
“Charles Wilson, my Auror partner, he was killed yesterday night by the Killer.”
Harry’s eyes went distant. “We found him near Godric’s Hollow, a few blocks away from my house. He was kidnapped from Knockturn Alley while we were patrolling the area. Charles…., he was wearing my coat yesterday, because he had forgotten his own. The aurors don’t think it is of much importance. But- oh Merlin, Tom, maybe…. maybe it was supposed to be me. Maybe the killer was targeting me, but took Charles by mistake. I tried telling Robards about it, but wouldn’t listen! I know it was supposed to be me! Why would he leave Charles’ body near my house, Tom? Why? And now the attack on you….”
Harry looked so guilty at the moment, it broke Tom’s heart. “Merlin, I’m so sorry, Tom. All this is happening because of me. I- I’ll tell Robards about this and ask him to grant you auror protection for a few days….”
Harry had started to make his way to the floo, when Tom stopped him. It took him four hours, but he was able to stop Harry from telling the aurors about the supposed attack on him.
Though he had relented to stay with Harry in Godric’s Hollow till the time the Killer was found, and Tom felt like a piece of shit when Harry looked more concerned about Tom’s life than his own.
Sometimes, the truth about him would almost be on the tip of his tongue, but something always stopped Tom from telling it. No matter what he did, Tom could never tell Harry about his secret.
On the bright side, living with Harry had miraculously stopped him from surfacing.
Tom had forgotten to take his medications with him during their vacation to New York, but somehow, he did not have a single episode during the whole week.
After coming back to Britain, Tom had experimented on it. He had made himself angry, sad, too excited and even smacked his head on the wall to make himself unconscious (while Harry was at work, of course) but he never took over. It felt exhilarating, being free from the worry about his other self, but Tom wasn’t complaining.
He had celebrated his joy with Harry after that, under the pretext of his promotion (double joy).
He was finally completely happy, for the first time in his life.
And it got better, after a year, he had proposed to Harry under the starry sky on a date.
They had married seven months later, and Tom did not think his life could get any better after that.
Who was he kidding?