House: Gryffindor
Year: 3
Category: Standard
Prompt: Pairing Rubeus Hagrid and Tom Riddle
Word Count: 999
6 December 1942
"Come on, Roo. I need your help."
I can't blame him for eyeing me suspiciously, even though it hurts, just a little. Everyone is suspicious of me. Dumbledore thinks I'm the next Grindelwald, my Slytherins hope I'm the next Grindelwald, and no one trusts us Slytherins, anyway. But Rubeus has never looked at me like that before. Until tonight, he was the only one who hadn't.
"Roo, please. You're brilliant with creatures. Way better than me."
I can tell he's wavering. There would have been a time when I didn't have to convince him, a time when the mere mention of a dangerous creature would have swayed him in an instant. And I know his love for all things deadly hasn't waned; his daily trips to the Chamber of Secrets to play with one of the deadliest creatures known to man is proof enough of that. It's me that he's unsure of, and for once, I don't have the words to convince him. I can talk anyone into anything, better even than Lucius Malfoy, but, somehow, Rubeus leaves me tongue-tied. I can't help but always feel like I'm missing something with him, as if there's something just out of reach, something indistinct in the distance that I can't quite see.
But softly, so softly I almost don't think he's said anything at all, he finally makes me understand.
"Your world isn't built for people like me."
Those words strip me down to nothing. They strip me of my carefully constructed mask, my cold façade, my poise and my pride and my dignity. His words strip me of everything I've build and crafted and created, everything that I pretend to be, and leave only what I am: a penniless, orphan half-blood with nothing and no one save for the half-giant in front of me. In the fifteen years I've been on this god-forsaken planet, Roo has been the only kindness – the only love – I've ever known. And he gives those things freely, with no expectation or hesitation or ulterior motive. And yet, he's right; I'm building myself a world in which he does not belong. I'm building a world in which we do not belong. And, though I barely belong in this current world, I will have to banish every last piece of the person I truly am to survive in the new world of my own creation.
Unbidden, my hand reaches out to cradle his cheek.
It's a sight that has never failed to bring a smile to my face – my small, pale hand against his large, red cheek. But, today, my face is touched instead by hot, wet tears.
Rubeus looks momentarily insecure, but he does not hesitate in pulling my tiny, fragile body against his. His giant hands clumsily rub my back and he rests one huge, rough cheek against my hair. If anyone was here to see us, I doubt they'd even notice me, so safely ensconced in his arms and hidden amongst his robes. He shushes me in big gusts of wind that ruffle my mahogany hair and send a shiver down my spine in the cold of the abandoned classroom, but they are somehow just as reassuring, as calming, as he intends them to be.
I don't know how to change who I am, who I'm becoming. I don't know how to alter the trajectory of the path that I'm on, nor how to remodel the future I've been creating. I don't know how to carve out a life where he and I can always be exactly who we are right now, alone in this dark, draughty classroom in a disused corridor on the fifth floor of the only place I've ever called home.
All I know right now is that all that matters to me is him. I am far from perfect, far from deserving, far from worthy of his love or affections. But I want to be. Godric, how I want to be. Somehow, I feel that if my birthday present for him – a giant, hairy, deadly spider – can make him smile, then maybe, just maybe, I'll have started my journey on the road to redemption. So I steel myself, drying my tears against his robes and leaning back in his unyielding arms to meet his eyes.
"Roo, please, come with me."
This time, there is no hesitation. Rubeus smiles softly at me and takes my delicate hand in his, allowing me to lead him out of the classroom and down the eerily silent corridor. His trust in me remains resolute when I take him to the portrait of Boris the Bewildered that guards the Prefects' Bathroom, and he follows me inside without question. I try not to think of the threats, intimidation, and torture it takes to get this kind of loyalty from others I would once have considered friends. Rubeus has shown me time and time again that only those who offer up such things willingly can truly be counted upon when it matters.
I retrieve the wooden crate from one of the shower cubicles and reverse the spells I'd used to conceal it earlier that day. The wooden box is massive in my arms, but sits easily in Rubeus' palms when I hand it to him.
"Open it," I whisper, hoping he doesn't notice the crack in my voice. Hoping he doesn't realise just how much I suddenly have riding on his reaction to the creature inside.
But when he lifts the lid just a crack, and his face lights up with the widest, most genuine smile I've ever seen, I know. I know that no matter what happens, I am not the same man now as I was this morning. This morning, I was on the path to darkness – greatness, perhaps, but darkness. Now, I am on the path to redemption. The world may never know my name, but Rubeus will, and that, I know now, is enough.