He was stunning.
Blood traced the lines of his palms, painting a map of squiggly lines down his arm. The boy beneath him was whimpering softly, clutching his arm with a white knuckled grip, gryffindor robes stained with rusting red.
Harry glanced down at him, Harry's face a disturbing reflection of the boy's. While the boy's face was smeared with snot and tears, face an angry reddish pink sort of colour, Harry's face was smeared with bright vermilion and a globule of flesh was hanging from his lip.
Tom couldn't take his gaze off him, he was beautiful like this.
Harry smiled shyly at him, avada green eyes alight with satisfaction. Tom smiled back, he was sure that his pupils were blown wide but at this point he couldn't bring himself to care.
"You look beautiful." He hissed, enjoying the way the tips of Harry's ears and nose flushed a delicate pink. Harry ducked his head, seemingly unable to hold Tom's gaze.
Tom couldn't stop himself from chuckling at so many familiarities in these unfamiliar times.
Harry appears to brush the comment off, much to Tom's chargrin, and lifts the slice of flesh to his mouth and bites. And Tom can't stay annpyed, not when Harry is swallowing the last piece of flesh from his and and then raising his arm and licking the tacky blood off, tracing the rivulets painting his skin with his tounge. And if that isn't a sight that goes straight to Tom's dick, he doesn't know what is.
Then Harry's eyes close, lashes dark and feathery against his pale cheeks, in ecstasy as he tastes the blood of the boy beneath him.
He looks sinful like this, thighs spread wide and hair even more windswept than usual, blood on his teeth, on his hands, on his lips. His pupils fattened and almost swallowing the pretty green of his eyes, the tips of his ears still flushed a delicate pink from Tom's earlier compliments. And Tom can barely hold himself back from pouncing on the Hufflepuff and pinning him to the ground, kissing him until there are no thoughts in either head.
However, Tom does acknowledge that it might be insenitive - making out with the boy's killer infront of him - so he squishes the urge down for now.
The boy begins babbling curses and pleas at Harry, tears streaming feely down his face, alternating between 'please please please don't kill me, I don't want to die, not yet' and 'you won't fucking get away with this you bastard'.
Tom knows that the boy is foolish to even ask, can guess from Harry's earlier interaction with the boy that the more he begs, the more pain he will be in when he eventually dies.
Harry smiles down at the boy trapped between his thighs, it is not a kind smile though nor even remotely nice.
'You're constant noise is very irritating, I wonder what I should do about it?" Harry muses. "Ooh, I know exactly what I'll do!" Harry says in a sing-songy tone, reaching for the knife beside him.
He leans close to the boys face and says in hushed, honeyed tones. "Do you want to know what I'm going to do?"
The boy nods his head desperately, almost saying something before choking it back down.
So he isn't entirely stupid.
"I'm going to take that lovely tounge of yours," Harry croons, tracing the knife up the side of the boy's face. "And I'm going to cut it off!" At that, Harry adds some more pressure to the knife, cutting into the flesh above the boy's cheek bone.
The boy whines slightly, a high keening sound that is almost painful to Tom's ears. But Harry, to the boy's - and Tom's - evident suprise, just laughs.
"Oh don't be such a baby," he teases, as if the boy had just scraped himself playing football on the playground "It's only a flesh wound."
The boy shuts up, clamping his jaw shut in a futile attempt to stop Harry from taking his tounge.
Harry catches on and tuts at him, shaking his head at the boy's apparent foolishness.
And then Harry puts the knife between his teeth - and Merlin that sends sparks right to his groin - and grabs onto the boy's face and drags his mouth open. Even after his mouth is open, Harry keeps on pulling until there is a sharp crack and the boy lets out a harsh cry.
"Oops." Harry's voice is devoid of expression, and he sneers down at the boy.
Tom doesn't think that he's ever seen Hary sneer before, he's been on the recieving end of many glares before but never a sneer. And Tom commits it to memory, determined to hoard every new expression Harry lets him see until he knows Harry inside out.
And then Harry slides the knife into the boy's mouth and pinces out something bloody and shiny and wet.
The boy's eyes grow wide, mouth moving as he tries to speak but can't, gurgles and strangled yelps the only noise in the Chamber.
"You know, I might shove this down your throat instead of eating it - wouldn't it be funny to die because you choked on your own tounge." Harry says conversationally, his tone much more suited for discussing the weather or a nice meal than telling someone about how he might murder them.
"Although... I don't want you to die just yet, maybe I'll just save your tounge for later." Harry ponders, tapping his knife to his chin.
"Yes, that is what I'll do." Harry decides.
"Congratulations! You're not going to die yet!" He says jovially, patting the boy's cheek.
Tom is suprsed the boy hasn't fainted yet, though there must've been a reason why he was placed in Gryffindor.
The boy just squeezes his eyes shut, as if hoping that when he'll open them again this will have just been a particulary bad nightmare. Harry throws the tounge to the side, quickly forgetting about it in place of a more exciting thing to do to the boy.
"Nuh uh." Hary lilts, tracing a finger over the boy's eyelids. "You don't get to close your eyes, you're going to see every single thing that I do to you and what you become.
"Oh, darling, don't cry." Harry fusses, wiping tears from the boy's cheek. "I promise that you'll still have your good looks when I'm done with you.
And suddenly Tom is stupidly, irrationally jealous.
He wants to be called darling, he wants to have Harry oh so tenderly wipe tears from his cheeks. He wants to be the only person on the recieving end of Harry's care. And even though it's childish, Tom is spitefully happy that the boy is going to die soon.
And then Harry slices the boy's arm off, this time using his wand rather than a knife.
Instead of screaming, this time the boy gurgles - half choking on the blood welling in his mouth. Harry is holding the boy's arm in his hand and he licks at the blood squirting out of it.
The boy sputters, blood spraying all over his robes as he tries to keep himself from drowning.
Harry frowns down at him, and slides the knife into the boy's thigh. "Sorry, sorry." He apologises. "I just needed somewhere to put it."
"Now then, are you chocking on your blood?" The boy nods.
"Episkey." Harry points his wand at the stub that used to be the boy's tounge and clumsily heals it.
"You do need to swallow the blood though, it's the only way to get rid of it." Harry tells the boy.
Tom knows that Harry is lying, and so does the boy. He tries to mime something to Harry feigns ignorance.
"Sorry, I don't know what you're trying to say." Harry smiles at the boy regretfully, looking truly repentant.
The boy goes even paler than he already was - if that was possible - but swallows the blood down. "Oh well done!" Harry claps his hands together, severed arm lying across his lap.
Harry tugs the knife out of the boy's thigh with a squelch and a spurt of blood and carves the flesh from the bone.
He strips the flesh with the practised ease of an expert and makes quick work of it, bones quickly tosed aside. By the time Harry is done, blood dripping from his robes, his chin, his hair, the boy is unresponsive beneath him.
He's probably fainted. Tom guesses.
Harry holds a finger to the pulse point at the boy's neck and turns to pout at Tom.
"He bled out." Harry whines, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "I had so much more that I wanted to do, hell, bleeding out is such a boring way to die." Harry complains, pink lips pushed out and eyes reproachful as they glare at Tom.
"Ah well, there is one more thing I need to do though." Tom cocks his head, confused yet again on what Harry is about to do.
Harry grabs his knife from where it lay on the stone floor and makes a neat incision in the boy's chest.
He then stabs the knife deep into the incision and drags it through flesh.
After thoroughly inspecting the gouge in the boy's chest Harry plunges his hand into the boy's ribcage. After rummaging about for a minute or two, Harry crows, triumphant, and drags out the boy's heart.
Arteries and veins are tugged out with it, this bloodied and battered heart. Harry severs them though with his knife, and cups the heart in both palms before holding it out to Tom.
Tom takes a moment to appreciate the vision infront of him. Harry Potter with blood soaked robes and a scarlet stained face offering him a human heart still dripping blood and trailing veins and arteries like ribbons behind it. Eyes sparkling behind misted red glases.
Then Harry asks:
"Would you like to try it?"