FICLET: Dark Hearts ~ Harry Potter ~ Teen

[batsutousai]

Title: Dark Hearts
Fandom: Harry Potter
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Time travel, implied character death, betrayal, dark!Harry
Summary: "I'm not moping," Harry said before Tom could announce himself.

A/N: From a list of prompts on tumblr, harleyinblack requested “Nights like this, I become afraid of the darkness in my heart.” Harry/Tom. Harry realizing he's not a perfect golden boy.
Not quite what you wanted, I think, and not nearly shippy enough, but oh well.

You can also read this at Archive of Our Own, tumblr, or LiveJournal.

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The thing about being a horcrux, was Voldemort – or Tom, in this case – couldn't actually sneak up on him. Not that any 'true' Slytherin would admit to sneaking around like a cat burglar; supposedly, it was undignified.

Harry was fairly certain that was a load of bollocks that was spread about to hide the fact that skulking in shadows and creeping about after curfew was a Slytherin pastime. Merlin knew it was the best way to collect information others didn't want you knowing. Like the fact that Harry's one-time best friends had been traitors, pushing him to reach peak fame so they might ride his coattails and get everything they could ever want.

"I'm not moping," Harry said before Tom could announce himself. It was hardly the first time Tom had found him atop the Astronomy Tower on the new moon, and the conversation never changed much.

Tom huffed. "I said nothing of the sort."

Harry rolled his eyes and twisted on his perch so he could show the to-be Dark Lord his flatly unimpressed stare.

Tom's mouth twitched, like he was in danger of loosing a rare, real smile.

Harry turned back to the dark grounds, closing his eyes as a breeze brushed blew over his face and set his hair into even more disarray than usual.

"I'm waiting for the night you jump," Tom said as he came to stand behind the section of wall Harry was sitting on; he'd never once been daring enough to join Harry on the wall. Not that Harry really blamed him; not everyone had a bird as an animagus form.

(Not that anyone knew about his animagus form; in true Marauder fashion, he'd kept it a secret from everyone. Even his best friends, though he hadn't known about their betrayal when he'd decided to learn.)

"I'm not suicidal."

"And yet," Tom muttered, quiet enough the wind almost swept the words away before Harry caught them.

Harry leant forward, far enough that he clearly made Tom nervous, for a hand caught in the back of his robes. "Don't you ever feel trapped, Tom?"

Tom didn't respond, beyond tugging on the back of Harry's robe.

Harry laughed, but obediently jumped off the wall, settling for leaning against it next to Tom.

"I don't find tempting death to be freeing," Tom said at last.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not tempting him."

Tom snorted, the sound disbelieving.

"The thing about falling off the Astronomy Tower, is you'd be able to summon a broom before you hit the ground."

"It concerns me that you actually know this."

Harry flashed him a smile. "I've never actually done it."

Tom huffed and pushed away from the wall. "Come on, before someone comes up here and catches us."

Harry sighed, but turned to follow Tom down the narrow stairs.

Once they were out in the wider hallways of the castle, Harry sped up a bit to catch up, something which had made Tom threaten to curse him the first few times. But, just like how Harry had eventually settled into sharing a dorm and classes with the young man who would one day kill his parents, Tom settled into having Harry at his side, rather than following behind him, as the rest of their House did.

"Why do you go up there?" Tom asked as they reached the grand staircase, stopping to wait for the stairs to return to their landing.

Harry considered which lie to offer in response that time; he had yet to give Tom a straight answer, largely because watching Tom struggle to hold back his disbelief was always a treat.

As the stair rumbled to a stop in front of them, Harry decided to actually tell the truth: "Nights like this, when the moon is hiding and the castle is too quiet, I become afraid of the darkness in my heart."

Tom was quiet for a floor, either pondering the truth of his words or trying to figure out how to respond. Eventually, he said, "I don't understand how sitting on a ledge at the top of the Astronomy Tower helps with that."

"It's dumb."

Tom snorted and caught Harry's arm, stopping them both mid-way down a staircase. "You can't not share, now."

"Greedy," Harry complained, and the smile that stretched across Tom's handsome face was as terrifying as it was beautiful. Harry shook his head, but admitted, "The wind. It's not quiet, not still, not like everything else."

"If you try telling me it blows away your 'darkness', I will push you over the railing," Tom threatened.

Harry didn't believe him for a second. For one thing, there were too many witnesses in the form of portraits, for another, there were hundreds of years' worth of spells clogging the air that would keep Harry from being hurt if he fell or was pushed off the stairs.

"Nothing like that," he insisted, even though it did sometimes feel a bit like the wind, when it blew strong enough that Harry almost lost his balance, was trying to take away the memories of acid-green spilling from his own wand and splashing against the backs of Ron and Hermione. "I like the wind. I like flying."

Tom sighed and started walking again. "Don't I know it," he said, loud enough he'd clearly meant for Harry to hear.

Harry smiled; he'd already heard all of the stories about how many times Tom had fallen off his broom during the first years' flying lessons. Tom had mastered riding on a broom, because he seemed determined to master everything, but he'd sworn off ever riding them again.

"I am going to get you on a broom," Harry threatened as he caught back up, then grinned when Tom turned a rather impressive glare on him.

(Harry had seen far more terrifying.)

Tom waited until they were in the dungeons, away from the eyes of the portraits, before saying, "Goodness is overrated."

Harry thought of a redhead and a brunette, smiling to his face whilst plotting behind his back; of a smiling elder man who let one child suffer so hundreds of adults could feel safe; of ridicule and slander any time you stepped so much as a pinkie toe outside of the perfectly square box the world had shoved a child inside of.

"Yeah," he said, "it really is."

.