the gift of fear (tomarry) (harry x death)

david and goliath

When Tom does sleep he dreams vividly.

He dreams that his old city was on fire the day he left and continues to burn. His home, Harry's home, feels so large like how the poor woman's feeble donation in the Bible feels so large -- perspective. His home is a city; his home is his own world.

Or so it was. Now it is on fire and continues to burn. When Tom sleeps he does not sleep well.

Tom wonders how the so-called heroes of the Bible sleep at night, knowing what they have done? How does Noah sleep, knowing he made his ark with the intention to let the sinners of the world fall victim to his Lord? How does everyone made to kill or die in the name of God do so with a clean conscience?

It was the word of God, the command of God -- and would they be spared more guilt acting upon it, or joining the many heroics who failed to?

And so the question remains: is it better to have done something you thought right... or to have done nothing at all?

Tom makes his decision. That night, he imagines Harry's arms around him, the words of comfort whispered not like reality's malevolent truth, but soft and kind. You felt like you were pushed into a corner. It was do or die. I believe you. You never wanted to hurt anyone, even if part of you knew you might. It is okay.

It is okay.

Tom imagines this, and sleeps well.

Tom rolls into Professor Harry's class well-rested and feeling for once like guilt will not eat him alive. It is Slytherin-Ravenclaw class, and Tom sit next to Myrtle, waving to Orion, who is still surrounded by his bigoted little posse.

"Harry's a good teacher," whispers Myrtle. "The things he teaches us are a little... intense, though."

Tom must reluctantly admit it's true. Every lesson they've been through has ended with at least three injuries, and on two separate occasions, critical ones. It is as Tom feared and it is as Kreacher said: Harry's activities at home are not over until Harry is over. It is still happening. Harry's classes are his new children.

Tom's gut churns over this. He is now however is e better headspace to confront his conflicted feelings -- and it comes out as such: Tom will do nothing. He will let, and perhaps help, anyone else do something. He will not jeopardize this fragile thing between him and Harry. It is not, he decides, worth it.

"Hello, class," welcomes Harry. Wearing Hogwarts robes instead of his usual white button up and suspenders, it is an image hard to get used to. "Today we'll be studying, and attempting to perform, the cutting curse as used in a duel."

Malfoy, who has never liked Harry due in part to his house elf politics and his relationship to Tom, raises a hand instantly.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"So we'll be using the cutting curse on one another?" He catches Tom's eyes. "If so, I have a request for who my dueling partner is to be." Orion slaps his hand, scowling.

Tom bites his lip hard. Harry. Why are we doing this again? Setting children against each other? Make it allowed to hurt each other? Encouraged? He feels like he is Methuselah, very old, with the distinct feeling that something very bad is about to happen.

"Can anybody tell me why the cutting curse is a good defensive Charm to use against, in this case, friends," his smile tightens, "as well as enemies?"

Tom raises his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Riddle?"

"It's not fatal," says Tom, who had read up on this subject. He is an academic. He is (hopes to be) remarkable. "The wounds caused are painful, but superficial. Good to take down an enemy, and to not kill a friend."