Death Never Stopped Me Before

|Chapter 12|

He watched them through the floor, his face drawn up with a mixture of emotions. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about his lover and his best friends working so hard to bring him back. He nervously nibbled on his lower lip as he tore his gaze away and looked up to Death's impossibly still form.

"Will it work?" he asked hesitantly.

"They cannot bring you back unless you want to return," Death said, his empty gaze remaining firmly on the image on the ground.

Beside him, Merope sits, her eyes filled with remorse and love as she stares at Tom. "What will you do?" she asks, lightly tracing Tom's face with her finger.

Harry swallowed dryly. What will he do? It was a fair question, one Harry didn't have the answer to. It was a debate he'd been holding with himself since he first found out he had the option to return. Did he stay here, where his family awaited him in the beyond or did he return to the hell that was living, his only relief from the struggles of war and pain being his friends and his lover?

"I love Tom," Harry said, and he watched as Merope turned her gaze to face him. "I love him," he repeated. "So much. But... I'm tired."

She nodded slowly. "I am so grateful to you, Harry Potter," she whispered, her trembling hands reaching forward to grasp Harry's. "You have done for me what I was never able to do. For that, I am grateful. I will accept whatever you choose, even if it is not the one I want you to do."

Merope's words bring a bittersweet feeling, and he swallows dryly. Could he be selfish for once? Could he choose to rest? He was just so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of working, tired of the endless uphill battle. He just wanted to rest, his family by his side.

He was ready to move on.

He turned to face Death, his face hardening with determination. He was ready to move on, yet when he opened his mouth to speak, he felt something holding him back. A small, tiny tugging motion on his gut, pulsing as if to say, 'not yet. Don't leave'. He frowned, his hand absently rubbing his gut.

It wasn't just a gut feeling, it was a physical pulling on his stomach. He gasped when the tugging got harder and a sudden warmth filled his being. It was so warm, so welcoming, the feeling brought tears to Harry's eyes.

"What...?"

"Ah, I see he has figured it out," Death said, and Harry barely heard him over the overwhelming feeling of safety.

"What is this?" Harry asked, the warmth surrounding him on all sides. It was as if someone had wrapped him in a tight blanket and hugged him tight to their chest.

"That is the love Tom feels for you," Death said, and Harry's mouth opened into a gape. "That is the emotion Tom feels every time he sees you."

Harry could feel the tears sliding down his face, and a soft gasp erupted out of his mouth. This was what Tom felt for him? This feeling of peace and warmth? This was what Tom felt? Harry sobbed, completely overwhelmed from the feeling.

"I don't... understand..." Harry whispered, kneeling over. Death hummed.

"Tom has found the tether that binds your souls together," Death said. "He is sending the love he feels for you through the tether. He is trying to convince you to stay with him."

Harry covered his face, embarrassed by the emotion he was no doubt displaying. Tom felt like this? Was this how he always felt or was this a result of finally having his soul back? The feeling was like nothing he'd ever felt before. The sheer magnitude of emotion was incredible. Like a vast ocean, filled to the brim with love, hope, possessiveness, obsession, protectiveness, and the overwhelming desire to hold. All of it was too much.