Work Text:
When the Lights Fade
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bound by friendship
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Tom stared at Harry, who was hunched over his homework. The Slytherin common room was quiet, with the fire crackling in front of them. They were the only ones spending holidays in Hogwarts, and for the first time ever, Tom had had a fun and warm Christmas. He was waiting for his birthday with anticipation.
"You’re staring at me again," Harry said, jolting Tom out of his thoughts. He felt the blush spreading on his cheeks, but Harry was still looking between the parchment and the book.
"I’m sorry," he murmured and turned back to the book on his lap. He had done his homework already, his endless hunger for knowledge never really lessening but the large Hogwarts Library offered more than he had time to read through within seven years.
"You’re such a Ravenclaw," Harry laughed. His brilliant eyes were fastened on Tom when he glanced at him.
"You know as well as I do that the Sorting Hat indeed thought about that but since you had been just sorted to Slytherin, I wanted to the same house," Tom scowled. Harry’s expression softened when he smiled. Tom tried to stop his own smile but it wasn’t a fair fight with himself. He cared — maybe too much — about Harry and couldn’t leave him hanging.
"What if the Hat had put me to Gryffindor?" Harry asked, quirking his eyebrows. He had obviously abandoned his homework for now because that discussion was something they had circled around for months, probably since Harry had gotten an angry letter from his Father about his sorting.
They both knew that Tom didn’t have even an ounce of Gryffindor in his blood. He wasn’t brave in the way that Gryffindors were. If not for being a muggleborn — though Tom suspected that wasn’t the case — he was probably one of the most Slytherin students in Hogwarts but he had also enough similarities to Raveclaw for the Hat to think about it seriously. But Gryffindor? No, he wouldn’t have been able to do it, even with all of his cunning.
"Does it really matter?" Tom shrugged. He knew that it did matter. Bloody hell, without Harry he would've been even more of a target than he was now, with his second-hand clothes and muggle last name. Harry levelled him with a look that told him he knew it too. "Fine. I don't know. Maybe I'd be in Ravenclaw in that case but nothing could stop us from being friends even if I was a Slytherin and you a Gryffindor. Right?"
Harry glanced at his hands, and Tom got worried. He wasn't sure what to make of it, because he wanted to trust that Harry would've been his friend anyway. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing it nervously while waiting for Harry's answer.
"It's... true that I would've done my best to stay with you, but it's difficult. My Mom's best friend was a Slytherin while she was a Gryffindor. They got through, but it was difficult. The way that we —," Harry breathed in, a bright blush spreading to his cheeks, "— sleep in the same bed sometimes, would've been impossible."
Tom had to admit that Harry was right. He saw a lot of nightmares about the orphanage and it helped to sleep next to someone who didn’t judge. Harry sighed, drowning Tom’s focus back to him.
"You’ve seen how prejudiced Gryffindors are. I’m afraid that I would’ve succumbed to that sooner or later. Either we had to keep our friendship as a secret or we just… the space between us would have grown." Harry didn’t continue but Tom saw his emotions from his face clear as day. The possessiveness that Tom was still too afraid to show, raised its head in his chest, filling his lungs with acid. Would Harry accept it as part of him or would it drive him away?
"You’re right," Tom murmured, turning to the flickering flames in the fireplace. "Does it really matter? We’re here now, are we not? We can’t change it. No one can do that." It was a small relief but it was still that. Harry laughed breathlessly, and Tom glanced over at him, seeing to his terror that Harry had some wetness on his cheeks. "Why — why are you crying?"
"Oh, Tom. Yeah, it doesn’t matter anymore because we’re here and there’s no way to get me resorted to Gryffindor. If you asked from the Hat, Gryffindor would be far, far away from Slytherin." Harry smiled warmly, filling Tom with light.
And Tom knew. They had talked about that right after the Sorting, how the Hat had said Harry belonged to the Slytherin, despite his family. The blood has less power than the contacts you can make in your true House. Harry was also someone that Tom would think to describe Slytherin perfectly: cunning and resourceful, able to adapt easily. Perhaps, he mused, while I have also a thirst for the knowledge which made the Hat to think of Ravenclaw too, Harry doesn’t have the same bravery and — and brashness as Gryffindors have.
The silence was comfortable but he knew that Harry was still mulling his words around. Just months ago he had been more impulsive, saying easier what he thought, but the life in Slytherin didn’t allow that. He had learnt to think about his words. Tom couldn’t deny that he wasn’t somewhat sad about that. It had been endearing to hear Harry’s thoughts without a filter. He was more relaxed in Tom’s company, that much was true but Tom wanted Harry to trust him enough to say anything without a fear of judgement.
"So no, Gryffindor wasn’t a real option at all. If I’d begged the Hat for it, perhaps… But as it is, it wasn’t going to do anything else. What would you have done in that case? If I’d been a Gryffindor?" Harry asked, throwing Tom into the deep waves of thoughts. He had thought about it when lying in bed late at night and thinking about his life. He knew the answer but would it be something Harry wanted to hear? Would he be ready to hear how far Tom was ready to go for him? He didn’t think he had an option of lying, not now when they were having an honest conversation.
"I don’t beg, but I’d done that if I had to to get sorted to Ravenclaw."
"Really?" Harry’s smile widened, his teeth showing behind his lips. Tom nodded, a lump in his throat stopping him from answering aloud. Harry was something else.
When Tom had been a lot younger, still wishing foolishly for a friend, he had tried to find that from a boy who sat next to him in the classroom. They had been free from rumours in the orphanage so Tom had hoped, begged God to let him have him. He hadn’t realised that sooner or later one of the children in the orphanage would find out and talk to his only friend. When Tom had gotten angry and said aloud how he felt, how the boy was his, that boy had gotten terrified. The very next day he had moved to the other class.
But not Harry. Every time Tom said something that he regretted just seconds later, remembering that boy, Harry just smiled wider like he couldn’t believe his luck. And while Tom couldn’t stand for someone owning him, he was more than happy to own someone. Someone special, like himself. Harry was just that and he submitted to Tom like it was a new freedom he had been waiting for a long time.
Harry was his equal. His.
Tom stared at the clock and followed how the hands got closer and closer to 12. After that, it would be his birthday, the first one outside of the orphanage, the first one with a friend. He sat on the armchair in the common room, playing with the hem of his shirt. Harry had gone to sleep some time ago because he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore and Tom had assured him that he was fine to wait alone. It had been his tradition since he was old enough to understand the concept of birthday and he didn't want to lose it, even now that he had something else and more exciting to think about.
Tom smiled at the memories of Harry, how he had defended him and just been next to him for the past four months. Harry was his first real friend and he would keep him close forever. They had vowed that to each other, to stand by each other, no matter the time. When they had bumped into each other on the Hogwarts Express, they hadn't known what they would be. Now... Now they were two Slytherins, one of them supposedly a muggleborn and the other one not just a halfblood but also from the light, Gryffindorish, family. They had bonded over it quickly, hours after the sorting ceremony.
And now Harry was staying in Hogwarts to spend Tom's birthday with him instead of going home where his parents had been waiting for him.
"I can spend the summer with them, but you would be staying all alone here if I went home," Harry had said a few weeks earlier when they had talked about holidays.
"I'm fine! Don't worry, I can be here alone," Tom had argued. He couldn't understand how someone didn't want to spend all the possible time with their family, but maybe it was a part of being an orphan.
"No, you shouldn't be alone, especially on your birthday. I'm staying. I'll try to get an invitation for you for next winter and we can then go to the Potter Manor, but I will not be leaving you alone," Harry had stated firmly, his arms crossed over his chest.
And it had been decided. Harry hadn't told him how his parents had reacted to the news, but it wasn't probably so good if Harry's expressions had been anything to go by on Christmas. But Harry had stayed for him.
Tom shook his head and turned to look at the clock again. It was just a few seconds until midnight.
"Three, two, one," Tom counted aloud, "Happy birthday to me."
He got up and stretched his body before moving to the stairs. He glanced one last time at the common room and the fireplace on the sidewall. He missed it already, but he knew that his bed was waiting for him in the pale green light and the curtains would be closed only around one of the beds, the others being empty. He almost wanted to scrawl to Harry's bed where he had escaped occasionally when his nightmares had been too bad to fall asleep again, but he didn't have any real reasons now. He scowled at himself and went to his own bed.
"Tom, wake up! Happy birthday!" Harry's voice woke Tom up in the morning, earlier than he would've wanted. He groaned and stretched his hands over his head. "No, no, you have to wake up so you can open your presents!"
Tom dragged himself to the sitting position, rubbing his eyes. His mind started to catch up with everything Harry had said.
" — presents? What are you talking about? I told you that I don't need anything," Tom frowned and looked at the foot of his bed. There was a pile of presents, not just one, and he glanced at Harry who was grinning like a fool. "What have you done?"
"Me? Nothing," Harry giggled, his eyes wide like he was trying to make sure that he looked innocent. He had probably forgotten that they had been living with each other for the last four months and yes, it was a short time in the big picture, but it was also enough to get to know the other so throughout that it was ridiculously easy to read him. Tom had been good at it long before Hogwarts and had been able to read Harry like an open book almost from the start, so Harry's act didn't convince him. He left it alone for now.
"Fine. Could you push them closer?" Tom asked, reaching out with his hand like he tried to take one of the packages. He was too comfortable, his legs crossed and the blanket over them, to move and Harry was full of restless energy, fidgeting all the time. And he complied without objection, so it was good.
Tom counted the presents and was shocked to find out that he had gotten nine of them. It didn't make sense unless Harry had bought eight or even all nine. He narrowed his eyes but grabbed the first of the gifts. He unwrapped it carefully and gasped when he saw the book cover he had wanted to read but hadn't found it from Hogwarts library.
"How?" he whispered, turning back to Harry and hugging the book to his chest.
"My Mom helped me with it," he said and smiled shyly.
"But — but I thought that your parents hated Slytherin and me and everything?" he questioned, unable to believe that he had really gotten the book. It was dark, so it was even more of a surprise that he had gotten it, and from Harry's Mother, no less.
"My Mom? No way, remember that her best friend was a Slytherin. But my Dad? Yes, definitely. He was angry I didn't come home, probably he wanted to yell at me for being a slimy snake as he calls Slytherins, but my Mom understood my reasoning completely. She wanted to help me to make you a better birthday."
Tom had a lump in his throat and he tried to swallow it, but it was still there. He nodded and turned back to the pile. He put the book down and took the next gift. It was lighter and bigger than the book, so it couldn't be that. He repeated his process of unwrapping it and smiled at the familiar chocolate box from Honeydukes. Harry got them every month from his parents.
"You know that I don't really eat chocolate, but thank you," he managed to say. His emotions were welling inside of his chest and behind his eyes and he didn't want to look at Harry.
"Yes, I know, but I believe that it's from my Mom alone because it's my favourite box."
Tom was feeling weird and he didn't know what would come out of his mouth if he opened it, so he kept silent. The next gift was a ritual knife and Tom caressed its shining surface carefully. He pressed the blade against his fingertip and it definitely was sharp. Harry scowled at him when he pressed his bleeding finger to his mouth and sucked it clean.
And so it continued until there was only one gift left. Harry had become more agitated the longer he had gone through them, so he had to check on him before opening the package.
"Um, this is actually my main gift," Harry said, running his hand through his hair, "Open it and I'll tell you more about it."
Tom nodded and revealed a small box from under the paper. He snapped a small silver lock open and lifted the lid carefully. He gasped when he saw it. A beautiful pendant, snake made from silver and deep green emeralds as its eyes. He brushed it lightly and felt it.
"Harry, this is too much," he whispered, unable to let the pendant out of his eyes. "It must've cost a fortune."
"No, it's not too much and it was perfectly affordable," Harry said and Tom was sure that he shrugged even if he didn't see him. "It's perfect for you."
"What does it do?" Tom asked, lifting his eyes finally to Harry.
"It has some protective spells. I wanted it to protect you from most of the hexes other students are firing at you so it should have shields to them. It also warns you about potions you're going to put in your mouth."
Tom didn't know what to say and after a moment he threw himself at Harry, hugging him tightly. Harry tensed at first before wrapping his hands around Tom. And it felt comfortable. Nice. Safe. Tom wanted to feel that for the rest of his life.
"You're so — perfect. Unbelievable. You did all of this for me, with the risk of angering me since I had forbidden you from getting me anything, especially this close to Christmas," Tom murmured, pressing his face to the curve of Harry's neck, breathing in his scent. He was on the brink of crying and he tried to furiously force the tears away.
"I also ordered breakfast in our common room so we don't need to go to the Great Hall with that," Harry said after a moment, still rubbing Tom's back and pressing his face to Tom's hair. It was probably the best feeling ever if Tom had to name one at that moment. His heart was beating fast because, at the same time, it was scary. He didn't know what he thought about Harry knowing him so perfectly well that he had guessed him getting emotional while opening the gifts and had done everything to prevent him from feeling uncomfortable.
"Thank you," Tom whispered, leaning back so he could see Harry's face. "You are truly my best friend, best of the best, now and forever."
"Same to you," Harry replied, his blush deepening, but it was... cute. Tom's eyes widened to the thought and he pushed it back quickly. He shouldn't be thinking anything like that, instead, he should be focusing on Harry and the last days before the holiday ended and others would be back in Hogwarts, bullying them, forcing them to protect each other's backs.
But Harry just made you free from that with the pendant, didn't he?
Tom swatted the voice somewhere back in his head, determined to forget it completely. He had some birthday plans to attend with Harry. Harry, who had made sure that he got perfect gifts and something so valuable that nothing could replace it and no one would be able to pressure Tom to sell it. Harry was perfect and Tom wanted to keep him as close as possible for the rest of his life.