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You’ll leave me?’ Tom asked.
He seemed determined to know the answer would be ‘No’, but he still questioned to inflate his pride. The questioning seemed barbaric, coming from the young Dark Lord who would do anything to achieve his goal: going as far as splitting his humanity apart and never regretting it. Netherthless Tom looked at Harry with deep-rooted devotion as if he was the one who could only understand him(he probably was). His brown eye gleamed with tints of red whilst half of his face was bathed in the night rays. He looked as handsome as Icarus.
The Chamber of Secrets hummed warmly.
This wasn’t good, Harry thought. He knew what he had been forced to do when he was lunged back in time; he knew his savour complex would lead him to try to change the future. knowing he couldn't change Tom's ambition, but he could at least manoeuvre him to the right path. However, never throughout the journey did he expect himself to also begin changing.
The prior Harry would have been driven by his emotion, and delightedly would have said ‘No’ to feed Tom's ego, to keep himself and everyone safe and to finally be happy with one he truly loved.
But the current Harry couldn't or wouldn't, being with Tom was much of a risk now as it was in future years, whilst being his enemy. Tom evolved, yes, but that doesn't mean he changed much. Harry could still see the remains of Voldemort in him, sane or not, Tom and Voldemort are still the same person, and nothing could change that. Harry meant it; this relationship would collapse the moment Tom didn't see Harry as a valuable piece anymore.
Tom Marvolo Riddle didn't know what love was, and he would never learn to know it, not now, not ever. Irony tasted bitter, and a bitter, a product of a love potion cannot feel love itself, and Harry knew that better than anyone by now that if he kept creeping closer to Tom, he would become something he, himself, wouldn't recognise, he would be drowned by the obsession, adore the devotion, and yearn for the security and Harry was determined not to lose his composure to the creature in front of him.
Because losing would mean admitting that all of Tom’s wrongdoing can be justified by the simple fleeting notion of love, that he could turn a blind eye to Tom's wrongful action, due to how profound his love can be, and he wouldn't let himself do that, the line between love and hate with him, and Tom has always been neboulous, but that wouldn’t determine nothing, as Tom said emotion were for the weak minded, and the weak aways lost.
His answer was premeditated; he knew one day this question would arise, he was also aware that after years of deception by the adults in his life, one full of abuse, lies, deaths and weaponisation into the perfectly moulded threat against the DARK LORD. He had to be ready
He stared firmly into Tom’s lovely brown eyes one final time; he knew Tom would use Legilimency. He also knew that he would let him. Because Harry wasn’t a coward, he was a Grifindor through and through, where bravery was a notion used to challenge the flow of nature, and did Harry love to do the impossible.
Besides, he wasn’t Tom, who would presume and pressure the ideal response.
He waited patiently because the one thing he learnt in this timeline was that revenge is sweeter when it’s been deeply marinated, so much that the flavour at the end of the dish is tantalising as the process.
Tom was probably watching Harry's thought process now, coming to an end, and was slowly realising the actual answer. Harry undoubtedly said, ‘Yes, of course I will, darling... ’, with his usual loving smile, as his lips reached his cheek, eyes taunting at Tom making sure he knew he was aware that he could feel him in his mind.
The Chamber of Secrets wasn't humming or alive anymore.
The temperature dropped rapidly, the wall stilled, and the ground seemed to slowly shiver. The air was suffocating to breathe. Tom's eyes were now widened, glinting more red than brown, such a shame, Harry thought. His lips parted, smirking creepily as he acknowledged Harry's answer, never deflecting his eyes from Harry.
‘Yes…’ Tom repeated slowly. The response lingered on his tongue, sweetly acidic. the same way Harry's mouth parted the first time.
Tom couldn't believe it, his Harry had responded with ‘yes’, Harry who was ready to throw himself for him, Harry who could also speak Parseltongue to him to calm his nerves down,
His Harry, who knew so much about him, devotedly looked into Tom's eyes, fully knowing he would search into his mind for the answer,
And he still said ‘Yes’, his equal, his destroyer, his friend, his … now lover would leave him without a doubt. At this moment, he stood before him, still comparing him to his horrible future self, saying there was no difference between his current self as Tom and Voldemort.
Tom stared at Harry, bewildered, unable to understand him. He who willingly changed gave himself up to Harry because, having him against him, being away from him was much more plaguing than his own objectives to conquer the world.
Harry, who just confessed to him that he was inlove with him, but would not proceed forward because it was Tom. Harry, who seemed adamant about believing that Tom could not love him but would use him as a pawn and reduce him to a toy. He would have been right, maybe in the beginning, but they’re relation developed so much from back then. It was bizarre to not acknowledge such development, from the simple lost souls that conflicted with each other at every sharp edge, slowly wearying into a love neither would imagine of being capable of.
His anger boiled through his veins; he would not accept such an answer from his beloved, even if he would need to duel with death to win and conquer Harry to be his and by his side. Tom's wand was ready in his left hand, pointed at his dearest.
Harry expected this; it always led to this.
There would be no Harry if Tom didn't become his competitor, and there would be no Tom if there were no Harry to compete against him, stopping him; they were two sides of the same coin. If one side was erased, the other one lost value. So Harry held his wand up aswell in his right hand, gripping it firmly like Tom. They pointed at each other, and the duel between the two began again like a small-scale battle of Hogwarts, dancing around eachother like a couple whose fate was as viciously played by the gods.
Seems like some thighs were hard to erase, unfortunately, The prophecy will always plague the narrative regardless of where and in which timeline you were at, as either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives’... Such a tragically romantic prophecy depicting a Domestic quarrel between two unfortunate souls. The deity laughed in union as they observed tensely at the battle of star-crossed lovers <3