Jonquils And Lightning

A Visit to the Bedroom

Harry stepped back through his portal and looked around, conjuring a flame on his palm as he watched the shadows on the hills. It appeared to be an hour after dawn, which didn't surprise him, even though he had only spent a few hours with Ron and Hermione in his first world. Time just didn't flow at the same pace in both places.

He moved forwards, and touched the edge of an alarm ward with his knee. The tinkle as of a bell was barely audible to him, but it would ring loudly in the ears of whoever had set it.

Harry carefully turned, bracing himself for Albus to come hunting for him. He couldn't conceive who else would have set up such a thing.

But when the sharp crack of Apparition sounded across the hills, it was Tom who appeared. He was rubbing sleep out of his eyes with one hand. He stepped towards Harry and held his hand out, beaming at him with his head half-tilted. That smile made Harry's breathing quicken.

Tom seemed to sense the change. "You made some kind of decision." His voice was neutral.

Harry nodded. "My friend I went to talk to—she told me things I already knew. But I had to have someone who was outside the situation tell me the truth before I was ready to accept it." He swallowed and moved forwards until his forehead was leaning against Tom's. "She said that I can't make both you and Jonquil happy. Even if I tried to rip myself apart to do it, it wouldn't work."

"So your decision is?"

"That I want to make myself happy. And that means being with you, Tom."

Harry thought he would follow up those whispered words with a kiss, and it would be romantic. But he didn't get the chance. Tom kissed him first, hungrily, fiercely, his hands gripping the sides of Harry's cheeks like a hawk's talons. Then he moved back and tugged insistently on Harry's hand, gesturing with his head towards Godric's Hollow.

"Come," he breathed. "Now."

"But I'm not going to run away," Harry said. "That's what I was trying to tell you. I choose you, so that means—"

Tom Apparated them both while he was still trying to argue. Harry stumbled as he found himself in the middle of his bedroom, anti-Apparition wards well and truly torn, with Tom all but vibrating in his arms with impatience. Harry stumbled again as Tom forced him back onto the bed.

"I know you're not going to run away," Tom said, with an impatient shake of his head that disordered his hair even more than it already was. "But I've been waiting for this moment for days now, while half-convinced that it would never come. You don't know how hungry I've been, Harry."

Harry reached up and traced his fingers along the line of Tom's cheekbone, up to his eyes. Tom closed them and stood there as if savoring every moment of the gentle touch.

"That's where you're wrong," Harry breathed. "I can see it in the way you look at me."

And no one had ever really looked at him that way before. So many people in his first world had been blinded by the thought of being with the Chosen One; they hadn't noticed him, or his disgust for that title. And Ginny had been more sincere, but even then, part of her would always see the boy hero who had come to rescue her in the Chamber of Secrets.

Tom looked and just saw him. Powerful magic and face that Harry thought was average and faded scar and all. And wanted him.

Harry lifted his head to be kissed, and cast away all the defenses that would have made him an innocent victim. Easy to claim that, boring to be it. He wanted Tom back.

*

Tom had dreamed of Harry's surrender. Now he had it—

And it was setting him afire.