The Angel and The Demon [ Tomarry

Is Tom Count Dracula?

Harry had quickly made his way to the Great Hall, and as soon as he saw his friends, started shouting about how Tom was a vampire. Of course, he attracted attention, but people were so used to him talking about strange shit that they turned back to their normal conversations.

He was in shock, slightly. Harry hadn't really believed that Tom had actually turned into a creature. It sounded too far stretched and strange, even for a boy who was a wizard. But seeing those fangs, that Harry had never seen in his life, made him know something had changed.

"Hold on a hot minute," Ron said, holding up his hands. "Can someone explain to me what's happening? Because I don't think I've ever been this lost in my life."

Hermione quickly filled Ron into what had happened at the library the other day, about how they had found the book on creature inheritances at the table Tom was reading at, and figured out Tom had come into a creature inheritance on new years eve. Ron was surprised, obviously, but knew better than to question it even further.

"But, Harry," Hermione said, "why do you think he's a vampire?"

"So— get this— I went up to him after class to thank him for sticking up for me to Snape, and he smiled, and I saw fangs!"

Ron and Hermione were silent, obviously processing what Harry had just said.

"Wait... Tom smiled? Like, a teeth smile?" Ron asked incredulously. "Are you sure that green gas didn't make you see things?"

Harry sighed. "I'm sure. And he had fangs! Great, big, vampire fangs! How could you argue against that?"

Honestly, Harry was proud to have figured it out. He felt like Nancy Drew. Or Sherlock.

"Harry..." Hermione said. "You know vampires aren't the only creature with fangs, right?"

Well, it was fun while his pride lasted.

"Wait... seriously?" Harry asked. "What's more iconic than a vampire's fangs, though? I feel lied to. Every single media's representation of a vampire really lead me on. The audacity."

Ron snorted, and at Hermione's glare, he covered it as a cough.

"Harry, how do you know so little on creatures?" She asked. "I mean, I'm sure everyone knows even just a little bit."

"I was raised by muggles and I don't like reading," Harry answered, laughing. "You know that, 'Mione. Besides, I knew that a vampire was a creature, right?"

Hermione sighed. "Of course I know that. Anyways, every creature except the fae have fangs."

"Every single one?" Harry gasped. "Then how are we supposed to find out what he is?"

"We don't?" Ron answered, though it sounded like a question. "Who cares?"

"I do!"

Harry regretted it as soon as he said it.

His friends made eye contact with each other, obviously trying to communicate something.

"I mean, I don't, not really," Harry quickly said, trying to make up for what he just said. "I'm just curious, is all."

Whatever his friends were saying obviously was conveyed as they both stared at him with confused eyes.

That was worrying to Harry, seeing as Ron and Hermione rarely agreed until it was something important or non-negotiable.

"Riddle's been acting very strangely with you recently, hasn't he?" Ron questioned.

"And you've been much more obsessed with him recently than you were last year, right?" Hermione asked.

Harry was sure his cheeks were turning red. He loved his friends, but they were getting too close to figuring out the truth.

If they found out about his crush on Riddle... he shuddered at the thought.

"No!" Harry exclaimed, gaining a few other students' attention before they turned back to their lunch, obviously not caring enough to listen. "I just notice things, obviously. I mean, I still have a feeling he's a vampire. Call it gut instincts."

"Sure," Hermione hummed. "That's definitely why."

"Why're you so sure he's a vampire anyways, mate?" Ron asked, digging into some of the fried chicken. "Sounds like there's not much evidence."

Harry shrugged. "Riddle just gives off major vampire vibes. Can you look at me and tell me you'd be surprised if Riddle was a vampire?"

Ron shrugged. "He has a point, 'Mione."

"And even if that's the case, it's really not any of our business," Hermione said. "A creature inheritance is personal to every witch or wizard who has one. I'm sure Riddle wouldn't be too pleased if he found out that we're snooping."

"He wouldn't be too pleased?" Ron echoed, suddenly very interested. "Sign me up, then! Anything to make that git unpleased."

For some reason, this made Harry angry. Tom had just stood up for him, not even twenty minutes ago! That wasn't fair. Besides, the idea of anyone wanting to hurt Tom made Harry want to bash their brains in.

Huh. That was new. Harry would file that thought process away for later.

Thankfully, before Harry could say anything, Hermione playfully tapped the side of Ron's head, making him shut up.

With the sudden silence, Harry's eyes naturally wandered over to the Slytherin table, seeking out Tom. As per usual, he was sitting between the same people, but today he had a goblet filled with a dark red drink.

Blood?

For some reason, this made Harry's stomach flutter in excitement. He might actually be right. He had to be right— there was no way that drink wasn't blood, and what other creature drank blood other than vampires? Duh.

"Is he drinking blood?" Harry voiced aloud, discretely pointing over at Tom. "That has to be blood, right?"

Hermione and Ron looked over, thankfully not obviously enough for Tom to notice.

"It does look like blood," Hermione admitted. "The only other drink that would be is red wine, or maybe cranberry juice, but he's not old enough to drink alcohol, so it's not like he'd do it in the middle of the Great Hall."

Harry smirked. "See? Vampire."

—

Tom was drinking blood for the first time in his life.

As a demon, blood was seen as a dessert to them, and so he had decided to try it out. Of course, he didn't need to drink blood to survive, unlike vampires, they just... liked the taste of blood.

Tom wasn't sure what he had expected, but it didn't actually taste like blood. It tasted like a dark chocolate, strangely enough. Tom wasn't sure if it was his favourite thing to drink, seeing as dark chocolate wasn't his favourite, but he'd definitely have it again.

As he swirled the blood in his chalice, Tom's eyes drifted towards his supposed mate.

The longer Tom went without him, the crazier he felt. It was like Harry was a lifeboat, and Tom was drowning at sea— he looked so appealing, yet Tom couldn't seem to make it.

All Tom wanted to do was pick Harry up in his arms and covet him, treat him like his mate should be treated. But Harry could never want him.

He decided to just silently pine until the moment was right.