No Pain, No Glory | Tomarry

3: Not just rivals

Harry does sleep during these two lectures. He had stayed up to 3 o'clock last night rehearsing spells after all.

Thank goodness he doesn't share the first few classes with the Slytherins today. He has no willpower to be put under the older's radar.

Once professor Dumbledore has dismissed them, he packs his belongings and exits the room.

Riddle had said 'under the two headed statue.' Riddle can screw off for all he cares.

He doesn't follow the instructions assigned to him. Instead he makes his way to the courtyard of the castle. One turn, then another, then another and now right -

"I knew you would not follow through my request. It has become laughably easy to predict your behavior by now."

'Just amazing.' He leaves out a sigh. 'Where is that git?'

The corridor is way too tangled in shadows for his eyes to adjust to the little light that comes from the red vitraux windows.

"Right behind you."

He jumps, the hair on his arms are raised from surprise. He turns around.

The Slytherin is grinning. Of course. As long as Harry can remember, he always has been.

"Why do you have to make some sort of entrance, really? What's the point of it?" He asks, managing the tremor in his tone quite well.

"The point?"

"Mhmm."

"Oh, there's no point. It merely seems like a good way to have fun with your reaction. Can you blame me? It's always so exquisite."

Harry feels the wind getting a bit more chilly in that corner.

"Jokes are fun." He says, the irritation in his voice uncontrollable. "Being out with friends is fun. Not this. This is you scaring off people because you simply have the power to do it. Others can do that as well. They do not out of decency."

Tom's smile hasn't been erased the slightest. "I think I missed your little life lessons. Thank you for feeding my interest further."

Harry is ready to claw the older's eyes out. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Us, sweetheart. What else?"

The Boy Who Lived growls upon hearing the pet name.

Riddle never - ever - calls people pet names. He hates them. He thinks they are fake ways of affection to make teenagers even more vulnerable to outside forces of opposition. Then why does he call him by that?

He's a vile, sadistic entity that feeds of people's discomfort and fear. Much like a Dementor. (Or Stephen King's IT, but Harry hasn't read that book yet.)

"There are two things wrong in that sentence." Replies the boy in glasses coldly. "One, I'm not your sweetheart and two, there is no 'us' in any shape or form. There never has been. You should have your brain checked."

He turns backwards and walks away.
Or at least he tries to walk away.

The bastard somehow catches up with him and reaches out for his left wrist.
Once he has grabbed it he brings the shorter boy closer to him, not caring about the other's apparent discomfort to the gesture.

"You will not ignore me again." Murmurs the older softly.

"Or what?" He spits.

"Or I may just find one of your little friends and make them pay for your disobedience. I think the ginger and the mud-blood are perfect for the job, what do you say?"

"I say you're a right ass, but hey, you never listen to me, do you?" He mutters, voice sarcastic. "And leave Hermione and Ron out of this. You have a problem with me, you deal with me."

"Always so noble, aren't you?"

He thinks he hears the Slytherin sigh.
(The hand hasn't released his wrist yet. It will definitely leave a red bruise later.) Nah. It must be his imagination.

"It's not being 'noble', but 'normal'." He says. "Most people wouldn't want their friends to be hurt."

"Most people also end up betraying their friends to save their own skin. You'd know about that, would you?"

Harry sucks a breath in. Yes. He knew about that. His parents were betrayed by a friend after all.

He shakes his head and glares at the older boy. "When you said you wanted to talk about..." He doesn't say 'us'. He cannot. "What did you mean?"

"Oh. That. I'm glad you asked. Yes, I have been noticing a general lack of interest on your part these last few weeks. That cannot go on."

"Why? You'll get bored?"

The grin which had previously vanished, for a few seconds, returns again. "Precisely."

Harry wants to scoff. "Haven't you been reading the Prophet? Grindelwald is back. I do not exactly have the time for your schoolyard dramatics, Riddle, no offense."

"Then make time, hero. I don't care how you do it, but you will. If you don't..."

"What? You're sixteen, you cannot do anything."

"Don't challenge me when you know what I'm capable of."

"Whatever you're thinking, Dumbledore won't let you execute it."

"Right." Tom frowns a bit at that. "Your favorite teacher. Don't worry. I'm sure I will come up with something equal to my caliber."

Harry doesn't speak. He gulps, trying to ease his nerves.

"Oh and Harry? Next time, don't have me waiting. You will not appreciate the results." Says the Slytherin icily and finally releases his wrist.

"Fuck you." Snarls the green eyed.

"Is that a suggestion?" Is the gentle question.

"No. I would never touch the likes of you, ever."

"Mmm. That's my boy, taking no prisoners."

"I'm not your - " Harry is positive that his cheeks are red at the moment. "Oh, screw it. Just leave me alone. I have a Dark Lord to kill. You might as well wait in the line."

He runs the hell away from there.

Tom watches his frail figure becoming smaller and smaller as he's departing. In the end it's just a blur in the darkness. He licks his lips. The grin almost turns into a self satisfied smirk.
"Well, guess I'll just have to raise the stakes for you then."

Grindelwald can very well go and kill himself. The Dark Lord is no match for his Harry.

He returns back to the common room. He has plans to make. A Chamber to find.

Grindelwald is old and in need of a replacement anyway.
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A/N: Tom really said : in response for not getting the attention I deserve, I will cause problems on purpose ;)