Chapter Text

"Talking"

'Thinking'

–Parseltongue–

Prompt: Tom Riddle was tall, handsome, smart and very nice. He was also apparently just a figment of Harry's imagination, because nobody beside him could see the dark eyed Slytherin.

Voldemort is cold, cruel and wishes for nothing more than Harry's imminent demise. He is also very, very real.

Now, facing death before those red, intense eyes, Harry wonders if he could fall in love again, this time with someone who isn't a manipulating, lying ghost from fifty years past.

(I don't know, whatever. Just Harry being confused and aroused and under threat of death at wand point, please.)

Good Boy

They say that when you are about to die you see your life pass by your eyes. Maybe it was truth, maybe it wasn’t. maybe that was what was happening…

You see Harry James Potter was the heir of the noble house of Potters, the heir of Lord James Potter and Lady Lily Potter, née Evans and their only son.

As Harry grew he had heard of war. Of Light and Dark. Of The Dark heartless Lord that killed people mercilessly.

As Harry grew he had known a man. A tall, handsome, smart and very nice man. He was dark haired, dark grey eyed and very possessive of Harry. But with time the man didn’t grew and his parents told him that it was time he stopped having imaginary friends. Harry had been fourteen at the time, the time he had found that his dear friend was nothing but a figment of his imagination.

Harry had stopped talking with his friend, even if he still saw him. With time Tom stopped talking and in the end he just disappeared. A part of Harry had died that day. He missed Tom, even when he didn’t talk to Tom, just the fact that he was there made him felt better.

Of course Harry didn’t had time to think of that. War was going on and he was studying to become an Auror like his father to defeat the monster who had killed Harry’s mother when Harry was still a baby. Harry had heard his parents talk about that, Harry had been lucky to not been killed as well. Maybe Dark Lords don’t kill children… but that would be the man mistake. Or at least that was what Harry had hoped.

Harry looked into the monster in front of him. Those deep red eyes sneering at him as he pointed his wand at Harry, who had run to put himself between the man and his father.

Harry didn’t know why but those eyes made him remember Tom. Of when Tom in the middle of the night used to hug Harry into his chest when the teen had nightmares, of when Tom called Harry his Harry, of when…

Harry squirmed uncomfortably, feeling thankfully for the Aurors robes or he would be spotting an awkward arousal. He shouldn’t be feeling like that at face of death. He should be angry, he should… Harry didn’t know but anything but this, right?

It had been so long since Harry had thought of Tom, why did those blood red eyes made him remember an imaginary friend? He wasn’t even gay! He was engaged to Ginny. And his father was happy about him, why wouldn’t he? The girl was smart beautiful and…

And why damn it, was he losing his arousal now? It was his fiancée he was thinking of after all…

Harry looked at his wand in the man’s hands. If he could get it back maybe…

The man approached and the Dark Lord’s wand touched Harry’s forehead.

Why does everyone have to be taller than him?

Harry closed his eyes and awaited the death curse he had heard so much about.

“What’s your name, boy?”

Harry frowned and open his eyes looking at the man who was looking at his forehead. Harry tried to make himself look taller, why the hell was he doing that?

“Auror Harry Potter, heir of the Potter family.”

The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow coldly.

“Well, heir Potter, what is a young boy like you doing in the war?”

“I’m nineteen.” Harry spat.

He was small, not young, damn it!

“Really?” The Dark Lord didn’t even seem to have heard anything of what Harry said, his eyes on Harry’s forehead, where his wand was touching.

Without moving his face and eyes, Harry moved his hand and tried to pick his wand from the man’s loose hold. The wand on his forehead pressed hardly, making Harry contain his whimper.

“Can you feel my magic, boy?”

Magic?

Harry shook his head, frowning confused. Did that matter?

Now that Harry thought of that, he used to feel Dumbledore’s magic, when was it that he stopped?

The wand lowered from his forehead to Harry’s chest and Harry tensed. It was now. The Dark Lord was going to kill him. Harry looked at the man red eyes and couldn’t help but think of Tom.

Okay maybe he was gay… at least he body was trying to make him feel that.

“Who is that?”

Harry tensed.

“Who?” he asked as low as he dared so his voice wouldn’t sound huskily as he supposed it would sound because of his body traitorous reactions.

“The dark haired, grey eyes teen you’re picturing?”

Harry eyes widen and went deep red. The Dark Lord was reading his mind?

“An imaginary friend… It’s no one.” He mumbled in shame.

The wand disappeared from Harry’s chest and a hand appeared on Harry’s neck collar pulling him into the man and lips appeared on Harry’s ear.

“I suppose your father never told you that my biological name was Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

Harry eyes widen and he couldn’t help but look back at his father fainted body. Why had his father never told him? Did Harry ever told his father Tom’s full name?

Now that he thought about it, he didn’t… but that wasn’t an excuse, his father should have told him!

“Lord Voldemort, that’s my actual name.” the voice said on Harry’s ear making him shiver. Why did that sound so… Tom?

“I Am Lord Voldemort.” Harry mumbled, making the connection and he heard a chuckle so alike his Tom but so different.

Harry looked at the man and a wand was offered to him. Harry looked at the wand in silence and picked it.

What was the man working at?

“Your father made you lose Tom, are you going to let him made you lose me too?”

Harry eyes widen and he looked at his father. He had lost Tom and a part of himself because of him. It became a lot more difficult to control his magic, it felt like something kept him from his magical core, because he had lost Tom because his father told him to.

An anger filled Harry’s heart.

And he would want Harry to kill the Dark Lord, no, Lord Voldemort, because he was Evil.

Well guess what? Harry wouldn’t lose Tom twice. This one may have another face and have another name, but it was his Tom and better yet, this one had a body of his own.

“Avada Kedavra.”

–That’s it my Harry. Good boy!– a voice hissed into his ear as he was hugged from behind and apparated away.