Jonquils And Lightning

This Day of Fighting

"I need to talk to you, Harry."

At least Jonquil had come to do it before Harry felt he had to track her down. He nodded and stood up from the little table in the garden where he and Tom had been talking about possible ways to convince Dumbledore to leave. "I'll be there in a minute."

His cousin, red-eyed, nodded back to him and turned away to walk further into the house. Harry paused when he realized Tom was coming with him.

"No."

"Yes."

"No. She's so distraught right now that this would make her feel worse. I would do the same thing if you'd chosen her," Harry added, when he saw Tom's mouth opening. "I wouldn't speak to both of you at the same time. She feels overwhelmed, and she should. I at least owe her an explanation that makes her feel better instead of worse."

Tom folded his arms and looked him up and down from head to foot. "And you think anything will?"

"Well, maybe not. But having you there will make her feel worse. Stay here, Tom. And no magical eavesdropping."

Tom sat down slowly. He was still staring at Harry. Harry didn't have the time to stop and reassure him, though. He had to hope Tom would do as he was told. Harry turned and went into the house instead.

Jonquil was waiting in a corner of the small study where Dorea and Harry had sometimes had tea in the days when they were getting to know each other. It had dark green paint on the walls and a motif of leaping foxes that Dorea had told Harry her son Arthur had liked when he was young. Harry hoped it would be comforting for Jonquil now.

"You stole him from me."

Or maybe not, Harry added dryly to himself, and sat down across from her. "I didn't steal him. Tom is in charge of who he sleeps with, Jonquil. He chose to give himself to me. I accepted."

And that sure does sound like it's a permanent thing instead of a temporary one, doesn't it? Since people don't usually give gifts back after they enjoy them once.

Jonquil interrupted before Harry could pursue that line of thought. "But I thought you wanted him to date me."

"I thought it would be better if he did. Good for you. Good for him, because ultimately I think you're a better match." Harry lowered his eyes as he realized he was lying, but he pushed on. "But I can't do anything about what Tom wants, Jonquil. He was the one who made the decision to sleep with me. Are you saying that I should have refused and sent him to you instead?"

Jonquil flushed heavily. Harry winced to himself. He probably shouldn't have put it that way. It sounded as though she was asking for something embarrassing. And she hadn't even asked for it. Harry was the one who had phrased it that way.

"Are you going to sleep with him again?"

"No," Harry said. He didn't think he was lying this time.

Maybe. But there was still the issue that no matter how good it felt to be with Tom, they were from different worlds and wanted different things. And among those things, for Harry, was peace in the heart of his family. He wouldn't have that if just the sight of him hurt and alienated Jonquil.

"Okay," Jonquil said, sounding as if she were talking to herself. "Okay. I can live with that. Can you tell him that I want to—date him?"

"You have to tell him that yourself."

"But I can't! He looks—he gives you this look, like he's mocking you without saying a word. Maybe you've never seen it—"

"I have," Harry said dryly. The fact that it had come from a sixteen-year-old shard of Tom Riddle's soul in another universe was going to have to go unsaid.