Chapter 6:

"I'm heading out!" Harry yelled to Hermione.

"Don't forget that you owe me a bottle of wine," Hermione called back. "And please actually make sure you get enough food."

He and Hermione had been getting by with their meager groceries, supplemented by the dinner Remus had graciously provided the other night. Sirius had been less than enthused by the sight of their apartment, but luckily Remus provided a welcome distraction. Still though, they were in desperate need of more groceries and luckily enough there was a small bodega a block or two away from their apartment. Harry was pretty sure the owner was somehow related to the Russian mob, but Harry had met him a couple of times and he'd always seemed friendly. Even gave them a discount on their alcohol when he and Hermione had mentioned they'd just moved in.

Sure enough, the same man was working the counter when Harry strolled in and he offered a friendly wave.

"Morning!" The man called, his accent sounding just as thick as Harry remembered it. "Haven't seen you in some time."

"Yea," Harry smiled back. "Hermione and I just started a new job. First day off today! I'm here to stock up."

"Well I'm very happy to count on your support," The man grinned easily, sitting back down behind the counter. "Let me know if you need anything. We have new selection of wine in the back. Very nice."

Harry made his way there first, perusing the shelves intently and taking note of the prices.. He was decently sure Hermione wasn't too particular about the type, so he eventually just snagged one in the middle and said a quick prayer.

Carrying the bottle in the crook of his arm, he whirled around a bit too quickly and wobbled as he overcorrected, accidents stepping on the foot of another costumer who had been browsing next to him.

"Ah, sorry, mate!" Harry said apologetically. "You'd think years of high school sports would have made me more agile. My bad."

"Yes, it is," The man growled back. "Watch where you're fucking going next time, ey?"

"Yea, got it. Sorry again," Harry placated, trying for a soothing tone once he realized how pissed off this guy was. He had half a mind to argue back, but as Hermione always reminded him, there was a time and a place. He unconsciously took a step back when the man's glare didn't diminish at all at his apology, but then there was another man at his shoulders.

Before Harry could get even more concerned, a familiar voice chimed in. "You've got some poor luck."

Harry saw the man across from him take one more look then turn back to the shelf, anger apparently forgotten. Then he turned around the meet Avery. Apparently it must have been his day off too.

"Thank you," Harry grinned at the man, who nodded back with what Harry assumed was his best attempt at a smile. "Crazy we were both in the same shop. Maybe my luck is turning around."

"No need to thank me, sir," Avery said, smile fading back into his typical straight face.

"Harry," he corrected, shuddering at the use of that word. Harry offered Avery one more smile then motioned towards the other aisles. "Well, I'd better finish shopping. I'm assuming I'll see you again soon." And whoops, that might have come off a little more sardonic than Harry had wanted.

Avery nodded and Harry wandered off down the nearest aisle. He finished his shopping in record time, picking up a few basic essentials that they'd need for the next few weeks. He checked out quickly, grabbing the two bags of groceries in one arm as he made his way outside and in the direction of his apartment. He figured he'd drop off these then walk to a nearby restaurant and pick up some dinner for them also, since it was his night to cook and he had no interest. And very little ability.

Harry set down the bags on the counter and let Hermione know that he was going to pick up dinner too, and could she please put away the groceries, then he set off again, deciding to walk to the restaurant instead of wasting money on a cab fare.

Not for the first time, Harry cursed the local restaurant's hesitance to deliver to their area of town.

At the very least, the weather was finally cooling down so his walk was enjoyable. Just the right amount of breeziness to mitigate the sun's warmth. Harry was starting at the beauty of just-beginning-to-set sun when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Harry kept his pace steady as his eyes darted around, trying to see what had caught his eyes on the empty streets. And then - there - just as Harry had made it to the street corner another glimpse of movement had his eyes just barely catching the fleeting appearance of a figure turning his back to Harry. Not quickly enough for Harry not to realize that it was Avery though.

Harry tried to calm the immediate reaction which had him wanting to bolt. This was a small world, he reasoned, and he was heading in the direction of the more bustling area of the city. Perhaps Avery was just taking the same route.

So Harry made a split second decision to veer off to the right, choosing to take a longer and less logical route to the restaurant. Sure enough, when he looked behind him a block later, he could see the same lurking figure steadily approaching from behind.

An equal amount of anger and fear began to sink in as Harry increased his pace, making another sharp right to start the route back to his apartment, all ideas of dinner flying out the window as the man followed, keeping up with his increased pace. What the hell did Avery think he was doing? Or rather Tom, since Harry knew enough about the mob to know that Tom controlled everything men like Avery did.

Harry checked behind him one more time, cursing his shorter legs as he saw Avery gaining on him, then he took off.

"Wait!" The voice behind him called but Harry didn't fall for it, legs pumping quickly as he raced down the road, not even nothing to give a second glance to the homeless man shooting heroine that he passed by. "Wait! I'm not going to hurt you. Tom sent -"

If possible, Harry's heart beat even faster at that. His nightmare was coming true, Tom had actually sent for someone to kidnap him. Oh god, he must've really pissed him off even more somehow, and now he was going to be kidnapped by the mafia and probably die a horrible death and -

Solid hands grasped the back of Harry's shirt as he passed by an alley way and Harry gasped, adrenaline making him tense up and raise his fist to throw a punch at his attacker. But before he could land a hit, he was roughly yanked around and another hand was gripping his wrist and immobilizing his hand.

"I'd advise against hitting me," the voice chimed in, sounding absolutely unruffled even as Harry tried to valiantly to fight against the grip.

"Riddle, you son of a bitch," Harry cursed, finally stopping his struggles as he realized who had grabbed him, coming to the conclusion that he wasn't getting out of the man's hold by force. "Let me go, or I"m never talking to you again."

Silence met his anger and Harry deflated against the arms. The sudden loss of adrenaline making him feel like a puppet being help up. And when Tom felt the fight give out, he finally turned Harry to face him.

Tom's lips curled into a soft, almost sweet smile as he took Harry in. He delighted in the panicked little puffs that were escaping Harry's lips and the feeling of the warm body tucked securely against his. He felt an inordinate desire to press Harry closer, take him in until Harry became a part of him. Possess him entirely.

The sound of footsteps drew nearer and Harry tensed up again. He didn't like having his back turned towards someone he couldn't see, and he he made a last ditch effort to wiggle away, finding some purchase with his feet on the cement, but then Tom seemed to notice was he was doing and his attempts at escape were once again blocked.

"Enough of that, now," Tom rebuked gently, his voice still sounding amused and not at all flustered. "Be a good boy and wait while I handle this."

Harry was beginning to hate that awful smug tone that Tom took. It sent equal amounts of fiery rage and arousal through him and Harry didn't even know which one he disliked feeling more.

"I apologize, sir. He saw me and started walking faster so I had to stop hiding to keep up -" Avery's panicked voice cut through the thick silence and Harry winced in sympathy at the man's obvious terror.

"Enough." Tom ordered, voice suddenly turning so cold and emotionless that Harry felt goosebumps rise up on his arms. "I will handle it from here. Report to Bellatrix and let her know that I expect her to issue punishment in my stead."

"Wait!" Harry interrupted, turning his neck enough so that he could see Avery, though his vision was still partially obscured by Tom's shirt. "It wasn't his fault. He didn't do anything wrong. And he helped me earlier today."

Avery was looking at Harry with a shell-shocked expression and Harry felt a bit bad for the guy that he was so surprised at Harry pleading for mercy on his behalf. And sure, Harry was angry and afraid that he was being followed. But that was Tom's fault, not Avery's.

The silence held for a few seconds longer and then Tom was caving. "Very well. Though if a mistake like this happens again, you will not be able to rely on my merciful side. I do not accept mistakes, much less when they're repeated."

"Yes, sir!" Avery barked. He sent one last surprised look at Harry then he turned and all but fled in the other direction.

Lucky guy.

"Now what are we going to do with you," Tom mused, finally relaxing his grip and allowing Harry to put some space between them, though he pointedly left a possessive arm around Harry's waist.

"Let me go?" Harry tried, worry for himself increasing now that he realized he'd sent his only buffer for Tom's anger away.

"Let you go?" Tom repeated, eyes crinkling in a way that suddenly make him appear much softer.

"Yes, let me go," Harry confirmed, fear and irritation battling inside him. "I already told you that if you don't let me go I'm never talking to you again."

If possible, Tom's amusement only grew at Harry's threat. "I fear that if I let you go now you won't talk to me regardless. Besides, I couldn't possible just let you go in the middle of this district, Harry. Especially with your bodyguard sent home."

"E-fucking-xuse me?" Harry spluttered out.

"I believe you heard me perfectly fine the first time," Tom said calmly.

"You can't just do that!"

"I believe I already am."

Harry's face was full of rage. "No way, absolutely not," he snarled back, yanking himself away in a move that apparently surprised the taller man, as he released his grip around Harry's waist.

"We can discuss that tomorrow," Tom said with a tone that reminded Harry of an exasperated parent. "Shall I walk you home then, or did you change your mind about picking up dinner?"

Harry sighed and looked mournfully at the offered hand before reluctantly grabbing it. How Tom even knew…

Tom smiled in response and led them back to Harry's apartment, the streets suddenly remarkably more empty even though Harry knew that this block was known for drugs and prostitution. Harry didn't mention anything though, and neither did Tom. And even though Harry was thankful that he wasn't alone on his walk home, especially with it growing dark, it was also Tom's fault in the first place, so when they arrived at Harry's apartment he stubbornly refused to thank the man.

"Have a good evening," Tom smiled charmingly as he stopped on Harry's doorstep.

"…You too," Harry finally gave in.
"I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry nodded sharply and pointedly tugged at his hand that was still tightly help by Tom's.

Tom's eyes sparkled in a way that had Harry concerned, but before he could worry about the implications, Tom was leaning down and kissing him in a way that thoroughly reminded Harry why he was still entertaining Tom instead of sicking Sirius on him.

"Night," Harry muttered out, face burning bright red as Tom stepped back and leered at him in his usual manner. He gave the man one last look then bolted inside, face still bright red when Hermione turned to face him from her spot on the couch.

"That was hot," she approved.

"Oh my god, how - "

"The window," Hermione answered smugly before Harry could even finish his sentence. "Where's dinner?"

"No dinner," Harry answered. "Because that absolute prat Riddle accosted me in the streets instead. So you can blame him for the toast we're going to have instead."

"I'm sorry, what happened?"

"Long story," Harry sighed making his way behind the kitchen counter. "But I found out that he's been having me followed. Do you even know how creepy that is?"

"I think it's kind of charming," Hermione said and Harry's eyes bulged out.

"Are you insane? There is nothing charming about a homicidal sociopath having me followed."

"Well considering that you have a thing for said homicidal sociopath, I think it changes things a little."

"I don't have a thing for him," Harry defended weakly, knowing that it was a lie even as he said it. "And for someone who got straight A's all through college, you can be very naive. He only wants me because he can't have me."

"Well technically he's already had you," Hermione pointed out and Harry groaned into the pantry as he retrieved a loaf of bread.

"That was awful."

"Well whatever you decide, can you at least make sure to make it official before Christmas? I have a bet."

Harry slammed the toast down and glared at Hermione. "Who the hell did you make a bet with. And why."

"Dave. And Kingsley. Sirius too, but his bet wasn't fun at all."

"I'm going to kill them all," Harry swore.