Tom/Abraxas fic
Title: “Extremes Meet”
Author: Shaitanah
Rating: PG-13 (looks like that, at least)
Timeline: Tom Riddle at Hogwarts, and CoS at the end
Summary: There’s one thing Abraxas Malfoy and the Basilisk have in common: they both want Tom and they hate each other for that. [Tom/Abraxas slash]
Disclaimer: ‘Harry Potter’ belongs to JKR.
A/N: This is a weird fic I wrote a long time ago and finally decided to post. I’m not really sure when Tom’s eyes became red (probably long out of school) but let’s suppose it happened earlier.
EXTREMES MEET
Why'd you go and break what's already broken?
I try to take a breath but I'm already choking!
How long till this goes away?
Hinder. ‘How Long’
His eyes flashed. He forced a smile and pressed his forehead against the shiny surface of the mirror. Scarlet. His eyes were becoming scarlet. He chewed on his lip thoughtfully. Scarlet was a good color. It became him. It fit his personality. ‘You bite like fire, you burn like ice…’ These were the lines from some ancient poem. Tom never cared much for poetry but he liked this one. It described him in the eyes of those weak thick-headed people whose company he had been forced to endure while at school.
Tom traced his features with his long, comely fingers. His prominent cheek-bones, his sensual lips, his delicate yet manly jawline. His skin was pale but smooth. He had a high forehead shaded by a few locks of raven-black hair that were a mesmerizing contrast to his deep eyes animated by a touch of some profound, alien intelligence. Now they were a pair of bottomless wells of blood.
Tom let out a quiet hiss. What if it was an unnatural desease of some kind? What if it was contagious? You never know, after all…
He turned round and faced Malfoy who’d just entered the room. Startled, the blond boy approached and looked into his eyes.
“What the-?” he muttered in a hoarse voice.
Tom smirked. “Oh, that face! Priceless! You should see yourself, Malfoy.”
He cupped the boy’s face (such a pretty, such an arrogant and lying face) and pulled him closer. Their lips locked in a feverish kiss that grew deeper with each passing second. Tom almost laughed against his lips. He felt overjoyed. It was a dangerous state of mind. But his heart kept pumping blood with unimaginable speed. He could feel it thumping almost physically. He wanted to scream. He sensed the power alive in him.
Malfoy pulled away and licked his kiss-swollen lips. He managed to put so much charm into this simple gesture that Tom nearly choked on the inhale.
“I like your eyes, Riddle,” he observed with a bit more reverence than Tom would have expected. He raised his brows quizzically. “Let’s go show them to your friend.”
Tom smiled. Abraxas never suggested to go down to the Chamber after their first common visit. Tom suspected in some way he might have been a little jealous of the Basilisk - for the snake had begun to take a lot of Tom’s time. He spoke to her in her own tantalizingly beautiful hissing language that was unfortunately useless to Abraxas who wasn’t a Parselmouth, and the snake answered him. In her company, Tom was never bored, or annoyed, or sad.
Abraxas locked his arms around Tom’s neck and whispered: “I promise I won’t sulk this time.” His breath tickled Tom’s skin, raising gooseflesh. The boy smiled, too happily to his taste.
The Basilisk slithered upon seeing him: -You have come! I’ve been waiting for you for sssso long!-
-I know, my princess!- Tom shrugged apologetically. -But I had to protect you. They will no longer hunt you for they have found their… monster.-
Tom spat the last word with undisguised mockery. The snake hissed and then turned its giant head to regard Malfoy. The boy recoiled as she drew closer, her huge eyes staring at him with poorly disguised animosity. Tom swallowed a chuckle of amusement. These two could barely stand each other, fighting over one person who didn’t belong to either one of them.
-I sssee you’ve brought your little human toy,- the Basilisk observed. -For my entertainment or yours?-
-Watch you fangs, please. I need him.-
“Talking about me?” Malfoy asked. Tom knitted his eyebrows. He couldn’t possibly follow the flow of a conversation he didn’t understand… Or could he? Abraxas smirked. “Oh come on, Riddle! It’s obvious. Now, I remember we’ve only come down here to show her something.”
Tom stretched out his hand and touched the Basilisk’s head absent-mindedly. The snake hissed, pleased with attention, and flicked its long tongue over Tom’s wrist gently.
-You look beautiful, my little two-legged friend,- she said. Had she been human, Tom would have thought she was flirting with him.
He never forgot the look she flashed Abraxas when they were leaving. It was a mixture of resentment, envy and bloodlust that could never be satisfied. She would have been happy to rip him apart, to swallow bloody pieces of his flesh but she could never have taken him out of Tom’s heart.
Malfoy chuckled huskily. Tom knew he had noticed that look too.
Late at night Malfoy rested his chin on Tom’s naked chest as they lay on the bank of the Black Lake. It was a summer custom to run away from their dorm at night and make love in the moonlight, feeling the entire world freeze around them, bathed in starlight. Malfoy’s thick golden hair fell across his face, framing his storm grey eyes beautifully.
“You know, I love you for what you are,” he spoke quietly, listening to the rhythm of Tom’s even heartbeat. “Or for what you can become. She only tolerates you because you speak her language.”
Tom didn’t answer. Malfoy was right, of course, but he didn’t want to undergo another childish discussion.
“She’ll have me dead one way or another if I just think of going down there alone,” the blond whispered. The strain in his voice suddenly had a compelling sensuality to it.
“Yes, well, even if you want to, you can’t go down without me,” Tom said matter-of-factly. “You need to speak Parseltongue to open the passage.”
“And you?” Malfoy went on, ignoring his observation. “Would you mourn me if she killed me? Would you avenge me?”
Tom sat up and eyed his companion suspiciously. “What is all this about, Malfoy? Are you planning a suicide? Well, forget about it because I have a lot more on my mind than you two bickering about me! I’m not a grand prix at the end of some stupid competition!”
Malfoy lowered his head on Tom’s shoulder and licked the first drops of dew off it. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But it’s your fault I’ve ended up in this slavery!”
* * *
It felt so wonderfully right to tread the damp floor of the Chamber once again. Tom imagined he could breathe its air, wet, chilly and ancient, and feel the water beneath the soles of his shoes, and the cold that smoked underground. Soon he will cease being a frail ghost and return to life. He could taste the agitation at the back of his throat.
The Basilisk hissed gently: -Sssso you’re back! I wasss afraid you’d never come back.-
-I had my duties, my sweet,- Tom replied evasively. His gaze glided over the little girl that lay sprawled at his feet, her life-force seeping away right into him. -Quickly now, our hero is coming to save his lady.-
Indeed, a loud noise in the maze of the tunnels announced the arrival of the famous Harry Potter. Tom’s lips curved into a sarcastic smile.
-Tom,- the Basilisk said thoughtfully. -Where issss that annoying human that usssed to come with you?-
Tom looked at his hands. The hands of a sixteen year old boy, the little memory preserved in the diary for fifty years. So long… and he hadn’t changed at all. Though all the world around him had.
-He’s… He’s very busy right now, my princess,- said Tom past the lump in his throat.
-Pity. I think I actually misss him.-
The boy was almost visible now. Tom’s face hardened, turning into a beautiful but utterly placid mask.
-Me too,- he whispered, not quite sure if she had heard him.