The Darkening of Your Soul

Chapter 40

“Let me show you the kitchen,” Tom said, ignoring Harry’s brief moment of shock. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed it, or perhaps he was just being polite and pretending Harry wasn’t a giant spaz who freaked out at the weirdest moments. “It’s one of my favourite places in the house.”

The kitchen was indeed lovely. Large, with light cabinetry and slate floors and an island with a cooktop. Opposite that stood a round, oak table with four chairs.

Inexplicably, Harry’s thoughts became fantasies, of spending lazy mornings in this kitchen with his soulmate, bickering about what to have for breakfast while Tom bumped his hip against Harry’s to move him out of the way, and in retaliation Harry grabbed Tom’s arm and hauled him in for a quick snog until Tom wrenched himself free with a slap to Harry’s arse and promises of a shared shower later.

“Harry?”

Blinking, Harry turned to look at Tom, who stood beside him quietly, gazing at Harry with a questioning curve of his eyebrow. That hadn’t been real, what Harry had seen with his mind’s eye just now. Just wishful thoughts that had invaded his mind and for some reason a sudden lump formed in Harry’s throat at the realization that his overactive imagination had spontaneously sketched him a vision of a future for which Harry would do almost anything to achieve.

“You all right?” Tom asked, now looking slightly worried at Harry’s blank stare.

Clearing his throat a few times, Harry finally managed to get rid of that annoying lump. “Yeah,” Harry whispered with a helpless shrug. “I just realized you’ve got a home. A real home.” Ducking his head, Harry took a few steps away from Tom further into the lovely farm kitchen. He felt oddly embarrassed admitting this but if anyone could understand these feelings it was Tom. “Just the other day I was thinking that I don’t have a home. Not yet, at least. I thought it might be Grimmauld Place because I inherited it in my last life and I’ve been dropping hints at Sirius that he should consider me if he wants to get rid of it.”

“But?” Tom asked when Harry fell silent as he looked around the kitchen.

“But apparently I suck at dropping hints because last night Sirius was ready to hand Grimmauld Place over to Dumbledore, again, without a care. And I was forced to admit to myself that it’s not my home, because Sirius owns it and ultimately he can do with it what he wants.” Harry shrugged once more, turning his back to Tom as he looked out of the kitchen window to take in the overgrown backyard that was filled with six-foot-high shrubs and hedges. It must have been a nicely decorated yard once, but a decade of neglect had turned it into a jungle.

“Harry, you’re still young,” Tom said quietly as he stepped up beside Harry, briefly glancing at him. “I didn’t find my home until I was well into my twenties and I inherited this property. Before that I was homeless as well.”

Harry snorted in amusement at Tom’s choice of words. Tom had always had a roof over his head, just like Harry, and yet Tom was right. He had been homeless, as Harry was at that time. Yes, officially he lived with the Dursleys, but that had never been home, just a house he was forced to spend time in.

”Perhaps you will find a real home soon, without even looking,” Nagini said as she slid closer to them. That confirmed one suspicion Harry had ever since learning of Nagini’s beginnings as a human. Nagini might be unable to speak English anymore, she still understood it just fine.

“Why on earth did your godfather want to offer his property to Dumbledore, though?” Tom asked with a frown as he glanced at Harry again. “Does he not realize the old man made sure he ended up in Azkaban for life without a trial?”