Fear [ Tomarry

Thanatophobia I

Than•a•to•pho•bia
(n.) fear of death

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Summary: Harry joined Voldemort in fourth year when Voldemort was resurrected in the graveyard. After the war, Voldemort deals with a major existential crisis and worries about his horcruxes more frequently. Harry's worried.

Voldemort wins AU, and Dark!Harry.

It's late 2005, so Harry is 25 and Voldemort eternally looks 25.

They're equals and they're not dating, but that'll change ;)

This might actually be the closest I have been to Tom's true nature in the books and I'm proud??? I need a hobby smh

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Why are we here? Is there a reason? What if I haven't fulfilled enough in almost a hundred years of living? What if my horcruxes aren't enough to sustain my life force? Should I make more? What if Harry decides to turn against me and defeat them? Life is too fickle. Or is it? What if it's all planned?

"Tom?" Was sounded from outside his bedroom door. "May I enter?"

Tom grunted as he opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor in front of his bed. That wasn't a rare sight in the last week or so— he couldn't help it. He won the war almost ten years ago, and everything was going smoothly, but had he really accomplished anything? Was anyone going to remember him when he... no, he wasn't going to die. He has his horcruxes— including the boy who was standing outside of his door at the moment.

There was another hesitant knock on the door and a soft voice spoke again. "Tom? Are you awake?"

He quickly stood up. He rushed over to the door, making sure to step over his shoes that he had flicked half-heartedly on the floor earlier. When he opened the door, all he saw was a small boy (man, but he looks younger than he is) wearing pyjamas gaze up at him with bright emerald eyes.

Tom always had an affinity for beautiful things. His horcruxes reflected that, because almost all of them were ancient relics that contained gold or any other valuable substance. There was Nagini, a snake he could confide in, who was beautiful in her own right. His diary (which was now gone— thanks, Harry, for killing 50% of his soul) with gold font was a reminder of how he'd grown. But Harry was truly the jewel of the collection, and not only because his eyes were emeralds. His face was beyond perfection, his body was magnificent, his intelligence vast, and his bravery unique. Because of his bravery Tom had been surprised when Harry told him that the Sorting Hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin, although, admittedly, he was very cunning sometimes. Tom prided himself on knowing that this boy held a piece of his soul— as they had realized when Harry could feel all of the horcruxes' presence. Even if the boy only held 0.78125% of it.

"Were you lying on the floor again?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"No," Tom lied, "I was just doing some push ups."

Harry hummed and let his eyes trail over Tom's shoulders, and suddenly Tom felt very awkward just standing there. Over ten years and still Harry made him feel like a pubescent school boy— which was strange, because he had killed off the part of Tom that actually was a teenage boy. "I see," Harry murmured. "Well, hopefully you worked out enough to have an appetite. It's dinner time and the elves made your favourite; stir fry! And I'm starved, so we're eating now or I'm eating now."