Harry's wings have been a sore spot for him ever since they came in.
Ron and his whole family have beautiful fire-y wings in shades of deep red and orange, no two alike (besides the twins) but all devastatingly beautiful.
Hermione's wings were purple, a light lavender, and they were small. They were almost dainty when they wrapped around her or when she hid her face shyly.
Of course, Draco's wings were stunning. Large white wings with black tips, and they shone with silver in the sunlight.
Everyone had beautiful and unique wings, and Harry just wished his were like that. But no, Harry had wings pitch black. No color at all, none. If he wrapped himself in his massive wings, Harry would disappear entirely in shadow. His wings were so large he had to actively keep them from dragging on the ground, and they couldn't be hidden under a shirt no matter what he did.
People stared at him; especially when he subconsciously wrapped his wings around himself to hide from their prying eyes. Everybody seemed to have some opinion on the matter, but by far the majority agreed it meant Harry wouldn't ever have a pairing.
Wings were utterly unique. Twins were born with identical wings, and it marred them from ever having a pair. When two people had wings that shared the same patterns and colors, matching down to every last feather, it was supposedly like a lock clicking in place because they were meant to be together.
There was a pair of seventh year boys in Ravenclaw who didn't mind answering every question Harry thought to ask. When someone met their pair, they were drawn to the person subconsciously even if their wings were hidden. The two would orbit each other until their wings burned if they didn't acknowledge their connection. Acknowledging a pairing didn't necessary mean that a person must go through with it. Someone can choose not to be with their pair, which is why there were couples out there that weren't technically pairs. It was rare though.
Because of that, Harry found himself feeling cold inside whenever he heard the whispers.
"His wings have no special features."
"Empty void with feathers."
"Nothing special at all."
"Doesn't even deserve a pair."
"Won't ever need a pair."
Harry heard the whispers and tried to bury the loneliness that consumed his heart at every comment that bounced around in his skull.
He wanted a pair more than anything.
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Harry fell to his knees at Ginny's side, dropping his wand and anxiously hovering over her. His wings fluttered around him and he didn't bother making them stop because honestly it was an accurate representation of what he was feeling at that moment. He needed to fix it, he needed to figure out who the Heir was and stop them! Ginny could die–
"You…" A voice could be heard, so Harry looked up and saw Tom Riddle, from the diary, standing a ways away. But… that wasn't what made Harry freeze his movements and stop in his tracks.
Harry inhaled sharply, Ginny's limp body immediately slipping from his brain as he caught sight of the wings on the boy across from him with his lips parted in shock.
"Your wings…" Tom whispered, "I thought…"
Tom had attended Hogwarts in the 1940s, when the Heir had attacked that very first time. Tom lived back then thinking he'd never get a pair, like Harry, for so many years. He was probably more astonished than Harry, which was really really astonished.
"Beautiful." Harry couldn't resist the breath he let out as he really absorbed the picture Tom made as he stood there, completely unmoving.
His dark hair and pretty face meant nothing in comparison to his wings. When Harry wore them, the black looked dull and the size was awkward; but on Tom… they were truly stunning. His wings' deep black color weren't off-putting and abyss-like as Harry's were. They were an offset to his porcelain skin, and the way his wings surrounded him made him look almost delicate.
"How is this…" Harry did not understand. Tom was a diary, he'd lived so long ago! How did that even happen?
"I don't know." Tom approached him, unable to take his eyes off Harry's wings even as he knelt at Harry's side. His fancy pants were immediately damp like the stone floor, but he didn't seem to care as he reached out to touch one of Harry's dark feathers. "You have no idea how long I've waited for you."
His fingers caressed Harry's wings, and Harry couldn't help extending one of his wings fully and wrapping it gently around Tom's shoulders. It wasn't until then that Harry actually felt blessed for having such large wings.
"But you're… not alive anymore." Harry whispered. Vaguely he knew he had to scoot past the body on the floor to get to Tom, but that didn't matter as he found himself sitting face to face with his pair as they intertwined their fingers. "How are you even here?"
"The diary lets me steal the magic and life from others." Tom breathed, "Ginny was more than enough to sustain me when I possessed her."
"You're killing her." Harry glanced back at her and felt a spark of concern. Wasn't he originally down in the Chamber to save her? Tom was the one responsible for all the Petrified students in the Hospital wing…
"I am." Tom reached up to cup his cheek, and Harry looked back at him with wide eyes. "But that means now I can have you." His wings came around Harry, soft and dark and warm and strong, and it felt like finally coming home.
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Maybe it was wrong of him to let Ginny die in the Chamber, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. Not even when he brought her body to the Headmaster and apologized like he meant it, saying there was no sign of anything but Ginny. Not even when Ron was screaming and crying, even if it was almost enough. But then Harry felt that little tug on his heart that reminded him of what waited for him, and that tiny smudge of guilt vanished.
The school closed, and all the students were sent home. Harry happily went, flustered and excited that everything had gone as planned. He'd done everything Tom had asked of him, and he'd done it well.
As soon as Harry was safely away from everything magic, standing on the doorstep of Number 4 Privet Drive, he was gently wrapped in dark wings and whisked away.
He'd been warned of the pull towards a person's pair, but nothing compared to the feeling of being safe with Tom's beautiful wings nearby. It was unimaginable. He found himself overwhelmed with awe and breathless admiration every time he looked at his pair. The person with wings like his that promised to never let him go.
Maybe it was wrong, but he was happy to let himself stay with Tom and leave everything else behind. He had a pair, and that was what mattered. He wasn't alone anymore.