Tomarry One Shots

Primal Fluids

Summary: When Harry gets his hands on Tom Riddle's diary in second year, Tom comes up with a plan to get his material form back. Harry is eager to help his new friend.

Ship: HarryPotterxTomRiddle

All credit goes to crowthing & eleven_eaves on Ao3

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Harry was happy. For the first time since the beginning of the school year, he went to bed with a smile every night and the feeling that he had something to look forward to every morning. It didn't matter that the whole school shunned him and believed him to be the Heir of Slytherin. He was no longer bothered by the other students taunting him between classes. He even stopped worrying as much about the petrifications and the mysterious hissing voice he kept hearing in the hallways.

For he had Tom as a friend—a companion to listen to him every night before he went to bed. Harry would open the diary after drawing his bedcurtains and pour his heart onto the page. Tom would write back, sometimes sympathetically, sometimes with mocking and irreverent quips about Harry's tormentors. It made Harry feel much better and far less alone than he had felt all year.

On occasion, Harry wondered why Tom didn't pull him back into the memory world again. He wasn't sure why, but he had a strong urge to see Tom, and even thinking about it gave him a warm fluttery feeling in his stomach. Tom had quickly grown to become his best friend.

One night, before he could stop himself, he wrote in the diary, "Tom—can I see you again?"

Tom's response was instant. "What do you mean, Harry?"

"Maybe you could show me another memory?"

"What memory would you like to see?"

Harry wrote back in his best handwriting, "What about... do you have a favorite memory from your time at Hogwarts?"

This time, Tom paused in his response. He didn't write back for nearly a couple of minutes, and Harry sat there panicked, thinking he had said something to upset Tom. Finally, the thin elegant script appeared again, to Harry's relief.

"I would love to, Harry, but I am going to need some help from you. You see, we've been writing back and forth every night, and every magical object runs on latent energy that needs to be replenished occasionally. I'm afraid I'm running very low after 50 years of neglect. In fact, I'm close to running out entirely."

Harry gasped softly to himself. He didn't realize that the more he wrote to Tom, the closer he was to draining the remainder of Tom's magical force.

"What can I do to help?" he wrote back determinedly. His new friend was in trouble. He would do anything to save him.

"I need replenishment. A highly potent magical substance can fuel me for many years to come. You see how the diary absorbs all ink, all liquids? I'll need magical blood spilled on these pages if you want to see me again. It won't be much, and I can show you spells so it won't hurt you, I promise."

"But that's—" Harry thought about it briefly. Wasn't blood magic dangerous and very, very illegal? They had gotten some lecture on it in History of Magic class, but Harry couldn't remember the details.

He must have hesitated too long before writing back, because more of Tom's elegant flowy script started appearing.

"Harry, I see so much potential in you. Your friendship means a lot to me. Do you know you're my first friend in 50 years? So won't you help me build up my energy supply? If I grow strong enough, I can even come out into the real world and visit you there too."