If I survive you survive

Chapter 7: Dropping the Ball

The days were painfully slow. The nights slow too. Harry would wake up sweaty, voice sore from the shouting he had been doing. His aunt and uncle were quickly losing any patience with him. Every so often Dudley would make a comment about Cedric and Harry wondered if it would be worth being expelled just to hex him into being silent.

Almost every night since the end of the tournament Harry would dream about Voldemort. The adult Voldemort not the young, handsome liar who had promised to keep him alive. When his mind wandered to Tom, which it did regularly, he felt waves of anger crash over him.

"Kill the spare" those high-pitched words haunted him.

The other reason he had been in a foul mood was nobody was speaking to him. He had lost count of how many letters he had written to Ron and Hermione and nothing. Well, nothing useful. The Daily Prophet hadn't reported Voldemort's return which baffled Harry and again caused anger to course through him.

He had taken to leaving the house in the morning and wander about until dinner time. Today he was sitting in the empty park on a squeaky swing. Sometimes Dudley and his gang of bullies would come into the park and try and wind Harry up. Intrusive thoughts would alight in his head about casting hex after hex on the lot of them.

The lack of sleep was making Harry incredibly tired and achey. He was slightly swinging back and forward with his head against the metal chains of the swing, his eyes closed.

"Don't you have a bed or something you could be sleeping in?" Harry didn't need to open his eyes to know who that voice belonged to as it was etched into his memory.

"You took your time" Harry drawled. He could feel anger burning inside him again. Knowing Tom was easy to pick a fight with.

"I had things to do" Harry looked at him incredulously. Tom just shrugged.

"I should hex you into next week! Do you have any idea what I've been through?"

"No but I'm sure you're about to tell me all about it" Tom rolled his eyes.

Harry didn't even register what he was doing. All he saw was red and all he felt was anger. He'd thrown himself at Tom trying to hit every part of him he could get his fists to land. It was like the gates had been opened and the rage overflowed. Then it was Harry who was doubled up in pain on the floor. Knifes piercing him, his blood boiling, he wanted to die. Then it stopped. Tom was standing over him, wand in hand. Harry could feel the aftershocks from the cruciatus curse. Harry was panting.

"Feel free to retaliate Harry. Although, you might get expelled. Underage magic and all that" Tom raised his eyebrows at him.

"Fuck you" Harry spat.

"Charming" Tom seemed to be surveying him and Harry just looked blankly back "you've lost weight. You're skinnier than you were when I saw you last," Harry felt a soft flush creep up his neck at the words and the knowledge that Tom was looking at his body.

"Oh God, please don't talk about that. Did you see the article? It took weeks to live it down" Tom had started giggling and then to Harry's surprise broke into full on laughter. Without being able to help himself he joined in. Tom realised that Harry had avoided mentioning anything about his weight and decided not to push it.

"Come here" Harry was mildly annoyed at himself for following Tom's command almost immediately. They sat with their backs again the railing that surrounded the park. Tom looked into Harry's eyes; they were the perfect colour of green. They reminded him of the flash of green light that would escape his wand when he cast the killing curse. He inclined his head and brushed his lips over Harry's. He was so predictable, first he would freeze like if he didn't move an inch the bad thing would go away and then his body would take over. Harry leaned into the kiss. Just as Tom knew he would. He liked knowing how Harry would react to him.