Evidence of Absence

forgiveness is not a virtue

“…And that’s what Angela was so upset about. Because she thought that my parents were turning on me because of Dark Arts and they would do the same thing to her.”

Tom bent down and touched the nape of Harry’s neck with his lips. Harry sighed and flung back his head. He was technically in a chair next to Tom’s at the table in Tom’s quarters, but he was sprawled so far backwards at this point that he was practically in Tom’s lap.

“I don’t think you should forgive her that easily,” Tom murmured. Nagini hissed in agreement.

Harry popped one eye open, and Tom wished he hadn’t said it. All the gentleness and relaxation had fled Harry’s body, and he sat up to glare at Tom. “She’s a child, Tom, and she was the victim of our parents, too. Of course I’m going to forgive her.”

“You were a child, and your parents did worse to you. She only feared what they might do. They didn’t actually do it.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Harry’s gaze was calm and direct, and he looked more composed than Tom had seen him about anything since Tom had persuaded him to publicize his Parseltongue. “What she might have done to me doesn’t matter. She was a frightened child. She had no power in the situation. I’ll be protecting her.”

“And yourself?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you put yourself in emotional danger again simply to scold your parents for not protecting Angela or doing right by her? Or would you allow me to do that for you, instead of insisting that someone should be doing it for poor, precious Angela, but not for you?”

Harry blinked several times. Tom nodded. They had derailed each other. Harry had put his finger on what Tom had feared—that Angela could have gone on to hurt Harry in the future if not now—and Tom had pointed out that he didn’t have to confront his parents by himself. Now neither of them needed to be angry.

Harry settled back into his chair. Not into Tom’s lap, to Tom’s disappointment. “You want to be there with me the next time I talk to my parents.”

“Ideally every time you do, but I will take next time if you feel unable to promise any others right now.”

Harry paused, blinking at him again. Then he said, “I have no trouble promising that you can be there the rest of the time, too, Tom. It’s just—”

“Yes, my dearest?”

Harry’s face softened at the shift to Parseltongue. Tom wondered whether Harry was even aware that he looked that way. “I didn’t think you would want to. I could see how it could get boring or repetitive.”

Tom reached out and took Harry’s hand, lifting it to his lips. “Defending you will never be boring. And neither will punishing the people who would have kept you from me.”

Harry’s hand clenched and trembled in his grip, but Harry said, “You have to keep in mind that I was one of those people. I believed their lies and dreaded you finding out and did my part in keeping it secret. So that’s one reason I can’t be upset at Angela, no matter if our parents never said anything directly to her about Dark Arts.”

Tom closed his eyes and nodded. “But you did change your mind and agree to be with me. If I can forgive you, I can forgive a frightened child.”

Harry’s fingers flexed once. Then he said, “I hope there are members of my family you’ll like. You seemed pleased that Sirius and Remus were on my side.”

“Of course I was.”

“Even if it means that you’ll have to share me with them?”

Tom sighed and opened his eyes. “You need more than just me and our snakes, Harry. As loathe as I might be to acknowledge that at times.”