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The sun was bleeding across the horizon, staining the newly conquered Hogwarts in shades of orange and red. Inside the Great Hall which had now been made into a throne room, Tom Riddle watched as the sun sets down.
He had done it. The Ministry had fallen and the "Light" side was now a flickering candle he had personally snuffed out.
He had won the war and the wizarding world was finally his.
Every banner bore his signature dark mark. His name was either feared or worshipped. The age of chaos had ended. And a new order had begun.
He should have felt triumphant.
Instead, he felt expectant.
Because victories were never free.
A familiar rustle was heard from behind him.
A shadow detached itself from the corner of the hall.
It seems to be far too tall to be human, with massive black wings that folds slowly inward.
"Harry..." Tom whispered and opened his arms, which seems to be a gesture of rare vulnerability.
The creature moved. A seven feet dark angel obeyed the dark lord's invitation.
The thing lowered himself, kneeling so their eyes could meet. Wings curved forward, wrapping around Tom in a familiar cocoon of feathers.
Tom leaned into the embrace without hesitation.
After all these years, it still felt warm there.
"Do you want to know what I want?" Harry’s voice was deep and comforting.
FLASHBACK
Tom remembered the desperation of his youth. A brilliant orphan with nothing but a name he hated, and a nobody with no lineage to be proud of.
Tom wanted to rise above. To control the wizarding world, and change everything.
But first, he needed to find a way on how he could achieve his ambitions.
And then he found the legend.
A being older than magic. It was a dark angel.
A creature said to grant power beyond imagination.
But in exchange for something else.
Its name was written in the pages of a forbidden text.
Harry Potter.
The ritual to summon it had been grueling. Tom had bled into a silver basin, chanting until his throat felt raw.
And when Harry first appeared, he was a nightmare of beauty. His skin was a map of surgical scars and silver thread, his eyeballs were pure black with bright red irises.
Tom should have been afraid.
Instead, he felt chosen.
“What do you wish?” the angel asked.
Tom did not hesitate.
“I want to conquer the wizarding world.” he answered.
The angel studied him for a long moment.
“I can give you power,” Harry said. “Strength no wizard has ever possessed. Fate will bend, luck will obey, and your enemies will fall.”
Tom smiled. “And the price?” he asked.
Harry’s wings shifted, enclosing them both.
“My body was made of body parts from different people,” he explained, quietly. “But there is still a lot… missing.... and broken.... and I require something to be a new part of me.”
“You want me to give you one of my body parts?” Tom asked.
Harry nods. “I will not decide which one yet..... until you succeed in what you aim for.”
"It's a deal." Tom had agreed without a second thought. What was a piece of flesh compared to his ambition?
END OF FLASHBACK
Tom leaned into the warmth of the Angel’s chest. Over the decades, the horror of Harry’s form had become Tom’s only comfort. He had grown fond of the creature that had slaughtered his enemies and whispered sweet lullabies into his ear at night.
"Can you stay?" Tom asked. "Even after the debt is paid.... I decided that I do not wish to rule a world where you are not beside me."
Harry only tilted his head. “Why?” he asked.
“I have grown fond of you.”
Tom whispered before leaning upwards and pressed a brief kiss to Harry’s cold, stitched lips.
Harry smirked, a flash of white teeth against the dark. "You want to be by my side? Forever?" He asked.
Tom nodded. “Forever.”
The angel’s wings tightened slightly.
“That can be arranged,” Harry said. “But first, I must collect what you promised me.”
Tom closed his eyes and nodded in understanding. “Take it.”
Harry leaned down and kissed him like Tom did. But it was longer.
Then Tom suddenly felt it.
A sudden, hot agony flared in his sternum. He gasped against Harry’s mouth, his eyes widening as he looked down.
There was a lot of blood on his chest.
Harry’s long, blackened nails had pierced through his robes, his skin, and his ribs and was looking for something inside.
"Ssshhh," Harry hissed softly, kissing the tears forming in Tom’s eyes. "I’ll be gentle, I promise."
With agonizing slowness, Harry’s hand delved deeper. Tom’s breath came in ragged hitches, his hands clawing weakly at Harry’s powerful arms.
"The part that I am taking is your heart." Harry whispered, his hand finally closing around the organ of rhythm in Tom's chest. "Give me all your love." He whispered, dearly.
He felt it pumping in his hand. Such a frantic, and powerful little thing.
"You want to stay by my side? From now on, you stay inside me." Harry smirked, and with one swift, brutal tug, he ripped the organ free.
Tom’s body slumped, the light fading from his eyes as his physical life flickered out.
But Harry didn't let him fall. He sat on the floor, cradling the cooling corpse, staring, and mesmerized by the heart still beating in his blood stained palm. It was the only thing in the world that was truly whole. Harry finds Tom's heart very beautiful.
Using his nail again like a scalpel, Harry sliced open the silver stitches over his own sternum. He pulled back the skin to reveal a hollow, silent cavity where a heart should have been.
He carefully placed Tom’s heart inside, each artery and veins connecting by itself.
As he stitched himself back together, Harry gasped. He clutched his chest, his black eyes were wide.
"It feels... weird." he muttered.
And for the first time in eons, there was a thudding rhythm beneath his skin. "It feels warm." Harry mumbled.
He looked down at Tom’s face and smiled. A look of eternal possessiveness.
"I can feel you pumping inside." Harry whispered, folding his great black wings over them both as the room fell into total darkness. "Sleep well, my heart."
🫀