"Please don't call me your boyfriend."

The words hit Harry like one of Dudley's punches to his gut, catching him off guard. Harry was more aware of Tom's razor tongue, he just never expected it to be directed at him, "What?"

Tom was sitting in one of the armchairs by the common room's fireplace, his back ramrod straight as he stared at the book he was reading (which Harry may or may not have stolen for him from the Restricted Section). The Head Boy looked as stoic as he usually did, as if he hadn't just emotionally wounded Harry, but Harry was more perceptive than that.

"Tom, answer me." Harry frowned, making his way towards Tom, "I thought I was your boyfriend."

"You are…" Tom answered, gripping his book tighter, "You're my everything."

"Then why don't you wanting me calling you my boyfriend." There was a small twitch at the corner of Tom's mouth, the closest he would get to flinching. But it was enough to give Harry pause, "You are my boyfriend, right?"

"I am yours…" Tom replied, attempting to bury himself in his book, "It's simply the…title."

Rolling his eyes, Harry grabbed the book from Tom's hands. It wasn't like Tom not to face a conflict head on, and it cetainly wasn't like him to act meek in the face of an awkward conversation, "The title, Tom?"

Tom's facial expression melted slightly, his normally composed expression relaxing into a much more open visage. If the two had not been alone in the common room (it was three in the morning, after all), Harry knew Tom would have never done such a thing.

"I…don't feel comfortable being referred to as "boy.""

"Neither do I, Tom, not after everything my uncle did to me."

"No, Harry…" Tom sighed, rubbing his temples, "I don't…feel like I'm a boy, or a man, or male in general."

Harry blinked. That wasn't something one heard everyday. With a quiet flick of his wand, Harry summoned the other armchair from its resting place across the room and sat himself in front of Tom, "Tom, are you telling me… you feel like you're a woman?" He ventured a guess, unsure where the conversation was going.

"Merlin, no, Harry!" Tom shook his head, "I don't feel like either. All my life, I never felt like I was either male or female…just something…other…"

Harry nodded slowly, "…Is this why you've never let me see you naked? Why you always bathed at odd hours of the night, and changed with your curtains drawn?" He reached out, taking Tom's hands in his own.

Tom looked away, "I can't even bear to look at this body…it's all wrong…"

"And why you were so upset when you became Head Boy…" Harry reached out, turning Tom's head to look at him. "And why you hate your name so much…"

"Tom is an awful boy's name…" Tom shook his head before looking at the hand holding Harry's.

"Well what do you want me to call you?"

Tom blinked, looking back up at Harry once more, "What?"

"If you don't want me to call you Tom, or say you're my boyfriend, what would you like me to say?" Harry had a genuine look on his face (a trait that Tom often told him was a dangerous trait to have in Slytherin).

The Head Boy sighed, "You aren't…repulsed by this?"

"Tom…or whatever you want to be called, this is not the strangest thing you've revealed to me. I still have nightmares about the Chamber of Secrets and that Basilisk."

A rare smile pulled at Tom's lips. He knew Harry was exaggerating about their outing to the Chamber, as the bespectacled boy had been in sheer awe of the last secret of Hogwarts. "She likes you, you know."

"Yes, she told me." Harry smiled in return, "But you didn't answer my question: what should I call you?"

Tom shook his head, unsure how to answer. Could he really show Harry his new name? "I…have been thinking of something…" He murmured, pulling out his wand and showing Harry the rearrangement of his name.

Harry watched the floating letters carefully, "'I am Lord Voldemort' …that sounds like the name you'd use when you take over the Ministry." Harry smiled, looking back at Tom, "I know you. I know you want to change the world, and leave Tom Marvolo Riddle behind at Hogwarts. And if this is the name you want me to call you when we're alone, when I whisper in your ear, or between stolen kisses, then I will call you that."

Tom blushed, unsure what to make of that, "But everyone knows me as Tom Riddle…"

"It's only Hogwarts, my love. And we only have a few more months before we graduate." Harry chuckled, "After that, I say we go on a nice long trip and…for want of a better word, kill Tom and allow Voldemort to be born."

The way Harry could say things so simply would never cease to amaze him, "I knew there was a reason I loved you."

Harry smirked, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "Just remember, when you become ruler of the Wizarding World, you better make sure I have a really nice crown to match your's, Voldemort."

Tom, Voldemort, smirked, pulling Harry onto his lap, "What good is a ruler without his consort?"

"Is that what you want me to call you, then? Instead of boyfriend, consort?"

Voldemort chuckled. "It hasss a nice ring to it, doesssn't it?" He hissed lowly into Harry's ear, revelling in the way Harry shuddered at the sound.

"I could get usssed to it." Harry replied, his emerald eyes shimmering next to the firelight as the parseltongue rolled off his tongue easily.