The Darkening of Your Soul

Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d found himself in a more awkward position as right there and then, with his arms wrapped around a rigid Tom.

If you’d asked Harry why he did it, he wouldn’t have been able to tell you. He was just so elated in that moment, and Tom was right there and important and his friend and it happened before Harry even realized what he was doing.

And now he stood hugging Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, his prophesized enemy, and also the man who singlehandedly made Harry question his sexuality to the point that he was now quite sure he had feelings for Tom that went beyond sexual attraction or even a simple crush.

Here was the thing, though. Growing up with the Dursleys, Harry never received positive physical contact. He wasn’t used to it and didn’t really understand how any of it worked. Even after starting Hogwarts in his first life, positive physical contact had been incredibly limited. A rare slap on the back from Ron or the twins, or a very brief hug from Hermione or Mrs Weasley and that was it.

And during his doomed relationship with Ginny she was the one who pretty much always initiated any physical contact and Harry had let her since he didn’t have a clue how to go about doing any of those physical things.

And yet, here he was, arms wrapped tightly around a man who meant more to him now than anyone else had ever done. There was no contest, not with any of his former or current friends.

The feelings Harry had for Tom went deeper than any feelings for anyone else, ever.

They went soul-deep, because they were as close to being real soulmates as anyone could ever hope to be.

Tom’s hair brushed against Harry’s cheek in a soft caress and only now did Harry realize that Tom had a scent that was his own. Harry inhaled once, twice and he didn’t think he’d ever smelled anything before that was simultaneously as exciting yet comforting as Tom’s scent. Like walking through a forest after the rain, earthy yet fresh, but also masculine with a hint of spices that was probably some sort of cologne, but underneath all of that something musky that made Harry want to bury his nose in the nape of Tom’s neck and inhale as deeply as he could, but he didn’t because he wasn’t fucking crazy even if his current position suggested otherwise.

And then, out of nowhere, an arm slipped around Harry’s waist and pulled him just a fraction closer until Harry stood pressed against Tom’s thigh while Tom hugged him back.

Oh.

This was even better, yet also even more awkward, because now Harry was silently panicking about how to end the hug.

He had no clue how long hugs were supposed to last. What if he ended it too soon? What if he dragged it on too long? Should he say something? No, Harry knew at once that whatever happened, he should keep his mouth shut, because words were not his friends in awkward situations.

How did anyone know how to do any of this? Not to sound like Hermione, but were there books available that discussed these things, because Harry was in desperate need of one.

Tom’s firm body moved underneath him for a moment and Tom’s face brushed against the side of Harry’s and was Tom smelling him like Harry had done to him earlier? Was this supposed to happen? And what was Tom smelling right now? When had Harry last showered? Probably that morning, or was it the night before? Harry couldn’t remember and at once he worried he stank of sweat or worse, potions, because they’d had potions that morning and what had they been brewing again that might make Harry stink?