let me go, hold me close

His next order of business, he already knows. And if presented in conjunction, one could be passed on unknowing of the real significance of the other. Of Harry's need to provide as he himself had wanted. Until he didn't need to want. Until he had found the truth about Magic. 

And is it not convenient, how he wraps up one lie in a truth. And hopes Tom doesn't find out. Even if it would be pretty obvious as it happened if it happened. No matter, he'll burn that bridge when he gets to it. 

Until then, the words form, "Actually, now that I think about it, I had the tailor make this special pocket for the Map in my school bag", he points towards it, "and it's possible that it would tear if left with everything else."

Tom is looking at him curious yet a bit wary?

"I will have Mom get one like mine owl-ordered for you, so you can keep it safe too." There, a reasonable justification, if you were an idiot.

But Tom is only eleven. And he doesn't know. 

Tom's wariness has vanished and his lips are at a slight curve again.

"I promise to keep it safe until then and after", and Harry knows he will live up to that promise.

"I believe you will."

Tom is looking at him still, and yet, a hesitation. 

"You can get into it, if you want." A laugh escapes him. He hopes he's right, but Tom provides no enlightenment, only nodding once as he turns to study the lines of the castle. 

He busies himself in sorting through his own books, and opens up the new potions book his mother had just sent him off with, a reference material for the subject of her newest research. 

It is full of obscure ingredient reactions, and then halfway turns to hypothesis. Most of it is a joke, Harry decides as he flips through, a quarter he has already known about. 

Only a tenth of the book has some useful information, or some well-informed hypothesis, yet he still buries himself. He didn't want to hear Lily go on about it once she found out he hadn't payed enough attention reading. 

The sky behind them turns a bright pink, an early evening in September, and Harry is startled as Tom places his hand, for just a second, slightly on his left forearm resting on the table. 

"I have studied it as much as possible for the first day, I think", and the I think is so cute, Harry wants to pinch his cheeks like his mom did to him sometimes. 

He finally gets her motivations atleast, even as he still resents. He was older than thirty, for Merlin's sake.

"I am sure you will pick up things real quick, Tom" a reassurance. It is the first day, he keeps forgetting that in his haste to keep to Tom after finding him.

Another idea, a quick and easy one. 
(It wasn't)

"Since my mother already knows about you, I think you can write to her if you have questions about the Map."

Oh. Wait.

So, now, Lily needed to know about Tom, which....was the hardest part.

And also....Tom needed to get an owl so he could write his questions. 

But also.....Tom needed to feel comfortable with her as well, if he was to write to her.

But also....Tom was making that unreadable face again.

So much for thinking things through before jumping in bravely (foolishly).

"Well, once you meet her, I guess" he amends, then, like the idiot he was, "If you want to meet her." Damn it all to Merlin.

"Christmas Holidays?" The thought is uttered out loud in tandem with his brain, he can't stop even as a new plan solidifies. "You could come home for Christmas Holidays and ask her questions about the Map if you want, or write", that was better—not really, an invitation requires an actual invite after all. 

"Since we are now friends, I would like to invite you over for Christmas with me and my family." A pause.

"They can let your guardians know", a required addition. 

And perhaps, Tom's guardians should perhaps be given a visit anyway. If things were too bad, Harry is sure he could get away with modifying them. Just a tad.

Unless Tom was fully accepting of Harry.

Then it wouldn't matter.

And he was.

"I." Then a turn into a different direction. "Wouldn't your parents mind you inviting me over without having asked them? It is quite a few days after all." He looks at Harry.

Harry laughs. "Did you hear her bloody patronus? They're gonna drive me crazy if I don't bring you with me. Atleast now they can focus on being regular people around you!!" The words are true.

Sometimes Harry feels like his parents are literally the silliest people on the planet. Their contant playful bickering between themselves and him. The contanst one-upping. The constant showmanship in jest. 

He loves them, but Merlin, they can be a lot for a little lost martyr that cannot (could not) figure out his way. 

Maybe Tom will help him not be overwhelmed with the questions and the trains of thought always being said out loud and the teasing. Merlin, the teasing!

And the four of them really were the worst company put together, and their sum was so much more than their parts, too much sometimes.

Tom hadn't replied yet, his eyes still on Harry, now a wondering look, brows coming together slightly. 

"You don't have to accept if you'd rather go home, obviously." He's not supposed to know about the orphanage. 

Tom's reply is almost instant. "I will." Then silence. He is as surprised as he is full of understanding. He had never gone back to the Dursleys for Christmas....nevermind that, burying that memory again.

Looking at Tom is such a stark reminder of his own once self, he cannot help the flashes his mind sends him at inopportune moments. Good luck trying to teach Tom Occlumency with these shitty ass barriers!

Harry barely remembers a conversation about a new theory for nutritional potions, and resolves to put another thing for his agenda with the mirror tonight.

And its not like No questions, No exceptions ever made a difference to anyone of the four of them.

Lily had probably already told James, maybe she even showed him a pensive memory of Harry's Stag and message. It was more than likely.

And James had most probably already told Sirius, who could keep nothing from Remus. Ofcourse.

So the bloody lot of them were probably waiting to ambush him at their after-dinner-mirror-daily-chit-chat.

Ugh.

He's definitely not looking forward to that. They're so embarrassing! He's an adult, a real one, only a few years younger than them, for the love of Merlin!

Atleast, a consolation, they wouldn't be so extra at Christmas. He would need to school them about Tom, yes, but they could behave when the occasion called.

And Tom. Tom could take the brunt of their attention. Of their affection. Tom needed it to be honest. And Harry was really a little tired of their shit, even Mom and Moony liked to act if they were still teenagers.

"Well then, I hope Potter manor lives up to your expectations." And then, another idea. "And please don't mind my parents. They talk a lot but they are harmless. The most they would do is fill your room up while you're asleep, covering every inch of floor in presents so you can't walk to the door. They did that last year. Or they'll talk your ear off or try to give you a hug. Or a slice of treacle tart."

There, nicely done Harry.Smoother than expected from you, honestly. (Hey, what now?)

Okay, so now Harry can go all out for Christmas. And blame the Marauders. And it was only the first day. And they were already friends. And Tom would come with him for Christmas.

He was on a roll today. Wow.

"I'm sure I'll survive", and that statement is funnier than it has any right to be. 

Lord. Voldemort. Would. Definitely. Survive. Meeting. James. and Lily. Potter.

Infact, if he used a quick green spell or two as fated, only he would survive. 

(Until Harry)

Harry's morbid amusement is a curiosity to even himself. How his thoughts about the people he knew once have changed......

Dumbledore....the mere mention enrages him. That old man who claimed to Care about Harry, about Harry's parents. The old man who's cause his parents had joined and martyred themselves for. The old man who had picked a fight with Tom Riddle and let others make his strikes against Lord Voldemort. The old man who had left Harry to rot with the Dursleys, not a visit since to ensure his well being. The man who sentenced Harry to the cupboard, and there's a word he hasn't thought of in a long time, kept behind good shields.

The old man who claimed to Care about him only in words, his actions inconsistent. He remembers it all, crystal clear even now.

Sirius. His Sirius. 

Will never leave him. Will never let go of his space in Harry's heart. The hole he left in Harry's heart. 

The only person that truly cared about him in both words and actions. The only one who saw him. Who heard him. Who understood. Who was there. Who wanted to be more. Who wanted him. Harry. Not Harry Potter, but just Harry. Harry. 

And Dumbledore had led Him to the Veil of Death, of no return. Of permanent seperation. Had made Harry feel out of his mind, had kept him in the dark. Had forced his chosen family to a needless danger.

Had made Harry's heart burn.

He will never forget. 

And Tom Riddle.

He will never forget him either.

Never forget the true feelings that had emerged at knowing.

At seeing through the many eyes, witnessing the slow decay.

He had wanted to save him then, and he could try to save him now.

The silence has grown a little too long, he internally groans. "You definitely will Tom", these words a rush. 

"And dont worry, I was thinking of something else, not of your chance of survival, " ummm quick, something, "your Christmas present from me, actually", good save, Harry. You're the best, you Seek you find. 

Tom's face breaks into a smile again, and Harry feels himself elated in return. He really is a tiny beautiful baby. And he needs to eat!

It's almost time for dinner anyway after all.

The sun is almost gone now, he casts a tempus. 

It is just past six, and yes, dinner should be ready.

He turns to Tom who—

Has that familiar bone white wand of yew and a matching Phoenix feather to Harry's in his hand.

"Tempus", he waves, observant and resulting forth is the same spark and then digits form in the air.

"That was great! You're gonna leave them all behind, I promise." He knows this much after all.

Tom says nothing, so he continues, "It's about time for dinner, we stayed longer than intended, got caught up reading this trash, sorry", he points at his book.

Tom looks at him curiously, so he elaborates. "It's a lot of Potion hypothesis, there's only a few words worth reading. My mother asked me to read it to see if she missed anything. She likes a set of fresh eyes, and my Dad is definitely going to do anything other than actually read Potions theory. He makes up well for his shortcomings though, so they're still together, I guess. His apologies are well thought out" The last part is funnier because it's true. James elaborately begged for forgiveness. Often. Too often. 

"That sounds interesting, but yes, dinner. We can discuss what's worth reading if you'd like?"

"Dinner first, discussion later."

And this time, he wants the anticipation of his coming surprise to burn in Tom for a while before it is sated. In a good way. 

In the best way.

It is the best surprise.

Lord Voldemort's second favourite room in the castle. 

Harry will leave his favourite (the Chamber, obviously) for him to find himself for a year or two before he reconsiders helping.

Tom knows more now with Harry after all.

And he wants to see Tom's face when he shows it to Harry after adventuring through the castle without help. After finding it by himself!

Wants to let him keep that satisfaction.

When he told Tom, if he told Tom the truth, Tom would understand his reasons. 

By the start of third year, Harry would show him, before he left Hogwarts—

And wasn't that something he hadn't considered—

And now plans of the Chamber intermingled with other plans.

More intensive ideas.

There is so much Harry can do, and he feels in a rush, but.....he doesn't know what to do. How to act. What to say. How to stop acting like an idiot. 

He moves to get up from his seat and picks up the Map from the table, gently placing it in Tom bag before pulling the flap over, before he picks up both bags again.

Tom just looks at him.

A plan forms. "Let's walk to dinner, and, if you want, after I have a surprise."

Eyes wide.

"What kind of surprise?" And Harry wants to laugh.

"Even the kind of surprise is a surprise Tom, sorry", yet his grin is mischievous.

Tom says nothing, his face searching.

He will find nothing, Harry thinks amusedly.

"Let's go? Dinner?" He asks.

"Yes" he says and stands up to follow.

And they walk out together to the Great Hall.