Thomas Potter-Love is a Different Dimension

Love's Sacrifice: Jupiter's Last Song

Hogwarts, November 1997

Dumbledore POV:

Albus lays on his bed, the moonlight, bright and red, a gentle kiss on his skin. His recorder is playing complex and exuberant music. Albus taps a lone finger on the hem of his velvet robes. His sleeping cap closes half of his tired face.

The blackness in his arm had reached his shoulders. He is unable to feel anything beneath his skin in that general area.

Fawkes has disappeared since the first night the sky turned red.

Albus hums to himself tunelessly.

***

Tom POV:

Hermione pushed back all the furniture so they could make a circle. She used the charmed galleons to call their friends. Ginny and Neville came immediately. Unbothered by how late it was, both eyes on him, sensing the urgency, the importance of the moment. All in their pyjamas save for Tom (who is wearing Sirius's old Beatle shirt but covers it with his nightrobe, because he has dignity for fucks sake).

Hermione charms the fire hearth to burn brighter, hot chocolates for everyone. She gives Tom an overtly supportive and encouraging look and he tries his hardest not to scowl. It was he who invited them here, he wanted this. He did not cave because of Hermione's insistent needling.

Maybe.

"Tom has something to share with us," She begins bossily. Tom frowns with his knees crossed, almost regretting his lapse of judgement, but then Ginny squeezes his arm.

He's angry at many things, but in the back of his mind...where it's quiet and alone, he knows he was never truly angry at them. The three pair of eyes that look at him as if he is someone- more than his name or power. Tom feels his neck warm at the realization that they have taken the brunt of his anger when they are the ones who least deserve it.

Tom massages the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache forming. Things like friends and family and beyond Harry were complicating his life unnecessarily. But...what was the point in fighting it? They insisted on being his friends, and the way Hermione pesters him to death—she desperately wants him to 'open up' and include them in his suffering.

His instinct was to preserve his heart and not let others in. It was better that way- distant, alone, and powerful. But he doesn't feel powerful, in fact, he feels oddly vulnerable and weak and it confuses him. He's lost so much already, and wonders if he's doing himself a disservice by denying their loyalty.

If Harry was here, he would insist on surrounding them with people.

Ours, he'd say. It was something Harry was trying to show Tom. This is our world, our people.

Tom exhales heavily. Making up his mind. He can't make up for his past behaviour, (in Ginny's words he was an arse) but maybe (it was a big maybe) things had to change.

"Everything I am about to say to you right now...cannot leave this room. Ever. Only a handful know the truth. It's a secret. My secret. I cannot stress how important it is that it remain so,"

They stared wide eyed, anticipating.

"I mean it," He stresses.

Ginny is struggling not to roll her eyes. Hermione looks slightly affronted but nods eagerly. Neville asks, "Is it something bad?"

"Depends on what you presume is...bad," Tom replies blandly.

All three of them look at each other, "Just tell us," Hermione says impatiently. "Whatever it is it's obviously bothering you and we--I meant what I said—You don't have to do this alone anymore. I know it's hurting you, whatever this is--"