the rise

chapter twelve

There was a soft knock against Harry's dormitory door and he heaved himself up to open it.

"Hello"

"Tom" He said with a wide grin.

Quickly, to avoid being caught, Harry let Thomas in and they sat together on his bed.

"Who were you talking to at the dinner"

"Watching me? His name is Levi. He had some very interesting insights about Dumbledore's Headmaster style"

"Levi"

"Yeah, I didn't know people outside of Slytherin dissaproved of Dumbledore... you are making a face"

"No I am not"

"... whatever. I thought this could aide us, in the death of Dumbledore. It would be no use to have him die a hero"

"And you, Gryffindor, son of avid Dumbledore fans, is going to believably turn on that old fuck?"

"If it happened slowly enough, and if more accidents occur... we could let Arelies out?"

"Interesting... I did want to see if I could get Carlos to kill someone for her though"

"She doesn't have to kill students... can't basilisks do that other thing?"

"Petrification. How do you act so dumb in class?"

"Well... they say practise makes perfect" his tone was jesting but he preened under Tom's compliment.

Harry felt Tom rest his head onto his shoulder and the weight of his skull and his soft hair brushing his cheek elicted sparks of affection from his heart.

"Nobody... nobody would know if you stayed the night here"

"Is that an invitation?"

"Yes"

Tom lifted his head off Harry's shoulder and rolled over onto the other side of the bed, kicking his shoes and socks onto the floor and removing his tie. His jacket and robe had already been discarded by the door.

Harry watched him awkwardly shuffle out of his belt and smothered a giggle.

And then he stood and removed his own shoes and socks and belt and robes, and he swapped his dress shirt for a softer pyjama shirt.

Harry and Tom laid atop the blankets on Harry's bed and didn't say anything for a long while. Sometimes it is just nicer to absorb someone's peaceful company. Tom reached out, across the dark red quilt and found Harry's hand.

It was silent. Hand in hand. And there was nothing like it, there is nothing like it.

"I do not think I need to take over the world anymore" Tom whispered.

"Good. We can just do it for fun" Harry whispered back.

There was another stretch of completely peaceful silence.

"I don't want to be your rival anymore Tom"

"You are not"

"I don't want to pretend to be"

Tom didn't have an answer for that so he didn't reply. He just squeezed Harry's hand lightly.

There was a feeling, that fell into them like rain. Of floating through space. Because all either of them could feel was their connection, the tie, the hold they had on one another. And they floated, together, past moons and meteors and suns exploding infinitely and planets with no life on them what-so-ever.

Space is a cold, dead place.

They did not mind.