Harry Potter's Pen Pal

Chapter Sixteen

Is this Tom Riddle?

Yes, who is this?

Draco Malfoy. I have a message from Harry.

Why can't he ask me himself? Is he alright?

He's currently in the hospital wing regrowing the bones in his arm.

Let me guess. Lockhart.

Yes. Can I give you his message?

Shoot.

What?

It's a Muggle phrase ⎯ never mind, just tell me what Harry said.

Okay.... He wants to know a few torturing spells to use on a certain idiotic professor, not just because he removed all the bones in Harry's arm, but because he used magic on Harry without permission. He even loudly told Lockhart not to use magic on him.

...I'd suggest the Cruciatus Curse, but I don't want Harry to be arrested. Instead of torturing spells, though, he could prosecute Lockhart for putting spells on a minor without consent.... A minor who just happens to be the Boy-Who-Lived....

Which would go after Lockhart's pride and joy: his reputation and career. No wonder Harry likes you.

...Aaand you can leave now.

What did I say?

Riddle?

------------

I'm back, Tom.

How's your arm?

Stinging a bit, but otherwise fine. I'm sure you want to know what happened.

Of course.

I can't go into the diary, I'm in the common room, and I'd rather no one but my friends know about you.

...That's fine....

Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll kiss you later.

Shut up and tell me what happened... SWEETHEART.

I love it when you're sarcastic.

Well, Draco got banned from Quidditch for the rest of the year ⎯ don't ask ⎯ and Flint, the Captain, asked me to take his place as Seeker. During the Gryffindor-Slytherin game, I got hit by a Bludger just before I caught the Snitch. When I landed, my bone was sticking out of my arm, which was clearly broken. I shouted several times at Lockhart not to use magic on me, telling him that Pomfrey was coming over. But Lockhart, barely thinking with his peanut-sized brain, removed the bones in my arm while trying to fix it.

I'm going to kill him!

You are not... can you actually do that?

...Not until I suck most of someone's soul out, because that's the only way I can come out of the diary for longer than ten minutes.

Hmm....

What are you thinking?

I'm not sure... I'll come back to it later.

Anyway, that's not all that happened....

What?

While I was in the infirmary, another person was Petrified, and Dobby came to visit.

What did Dobby do this time? Who was Petrified?

Colin Creevey. He tried to take a picture of Slytherin's creature, but it burnt all of his film. Oh, and Dobby cursed one of the Bludgers to attack me almost the entire game.

HE COULD HAVE KILLED YOU!

He wasn't trying to kill me. He just wanted me injured enough to be sent home. He was trying to keep me "safe".

That elf is a lunatic!

nO, ReAlLy I dIdn'T KnOw ThAt!

...You're hilarious, ba- HARRY.

Were you about to call me 'baby?'

No! Definitely not!

...Because I wouldn't be averse to it, honey....

...There is no way I am calling you that where anyone can see.

Well, you can call me that when we're alone in your diary....

Goodbye!

------------

Tom, can I come into the diary?

Harry waited for a long moment, biting his lip. Finally, a response appeared.

Fine.

The diary flipped to the first page, and Harry was sucked into the room.

Once again, he nearly fell over, and Tom had to catch him. He let go the moment Harry caught his balance.

Harry looked up at his... well, he wasn't sure what to call him. They teased each other and kissed a lot, and he certainly cared about Tom differently than his brothers or his friends. He wasn't sure whether they were ready to call each other 'boyfriends' or not....

Tom's face was closed off. Harry couldn't tell if he was mad at him, embarrassed, or sulky.

"Tom?" Harry asked nervously.

There was a flicker of something on Tom's face, but he said nothing except, "You wanted to talk to me?"

"I want you to talk to me," Harry exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly. "You haven't spoken to me for week ⎯ if it was the teasing, I'm sorry-"

The older boy blinked and quickly dragged Harry into a hug. "I'm not mad," he whispered, "and I don't hate you."

Harry laughed and sobbed at the same time and clung tighter to him.

Several minutes later (there may or may not have been lots of apologetic kissing) Harry and Tom were curled up on the couch, the smaller boy on the older's lap.

"Was there another reason you wanted to come in?" Tom asked quietly, stroking Harry's messy raven locks.

"Mm," Harry mumbled. Then he blinked. "Oh, right. I think Granger and Weasley are up to something."

Tom frowned. "That's not good."

"Yes. Weasley threw a Filibuster Firework into Gregory Goyle's swelling potion during class, and I'm pretty sure I saw Granger slip into Snape's store during the commotion."

"And Weasley's not in trouble?" Tom asked incredulously.

"There wasn't any proof he did it, but who else could it have been?" Harry snorted. "Besides, Dumbledore wouldn't let his little spies get punished," he spat.

Tom kissed the top of his head. "They can't hurt you any more, baby," he whispered, blushing very hard as he said this.

Harry froze for a bit, then pulled away, smirking. "You called me 'baby,'" he grinned.

"Shut up," Tom said, giving him a playful glare.

"Tom?"

"Yes?"

"Will you be my boyfriend?" Harry asked quietly.

A very large, slightly dazed smile appeared on Tom's face. "Y-yes," he agreed.

Harry beamed, then smirked. "Thanks, baby."

"Harry, I swear-"