Summary

Short dramatic one-shot. HP/LV. "Ever heard the phrase 'People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones?'. "You were raised by Muggles Harry, surely you've heard of double glazing". Angst/Hurt/Humour/Narrative hook test.


My words...

This short one-shot is a narrative hook test. I want people to read it knowing nothing about it as that's how I wrote it.

I'm looking for feedback about how it engaged people and, if I get enough reviews, I'll extend it to a full length story.

Hope you enjoy.


Chapter 1?

Tom knew from the minute the man had left, he was doomed. Everything about the man screamed incompetence, the crisp grey suit, and carefully starch pressed collar gave an air of professionalism but he had also been a ministry approved lawyer and Tom knew better than to take him at face value.

On closer inspection the man's brow had held a thin film of sweat and the hand, in which he held his quill, had shook slightly. His face had been cemented in disapproval and barely concealed anger. It had taken a bare amount of antagonizing to make the man crack, and Tom was very good at antagonism. What good was the man if he hadn't believed him anyway?

The door creaked open again and a haggard looking young man entered, supported by a dark rosewood cane. Tom shifted nervously in his chains as the youth took a seat across from him, at the small table, and stared at him with dulled, green eyes.

The temperature in the small room dropped more and Tom seemed to develop a sudden interest in his bare pale toes.

"How many times are we going to go through this Tom? That's the second lawyer in two days. We're suppose to be trying to keep you out of prison, not in it!".

Tom sniffed indifferently and stretched his stiff legs under the table. As he did, he fought the urge to look the young man in the eye. A soft sigh sounded and the youth sat back in his chair warily.

"Tom, I'm trying to help you here, but you've got to show some co-operation. You have to stop provoking them". Tom straightened his back in his chair and scowled.

"It doesn't help, that they all want to strangle me, Harry". He hissed darkly.

Harry huffed incredulously. "Tom! You killed the man's wife, you can't expect him to sympathize with you, haven't you ever heard of the phrase 'people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones?'".

"You were raised by muggles, Harry, surely you've heard of double glazing".

Harry frowned, and Tom's smirk widened.

"You just can't help yourself can you?" Harry's chair screeched loudly in the room as he stood up to leave, his cane clattering noisily beside him. Tom's smirk faded as he watched Harry leave and cursed inwardly at his own stupidity. Hadn't they been here before? Of course, knowing that Harry was 'only trying to help him' didn't help answer Tom's question, why? Among all his Death Eaters, his dark allies, why was he, the Boy-Who-Lived, here defending Tom's right to live?

"Wait" Tom whispered. Harry didn't and his heart started to race as he opened the door. "Harry! - Please". Tom steeled himself, for Harry to walk out, but to his surprise, he turned around and smiled tiredly at back at him.

"For what, Tom? You've made it clear you don't want, nor appreciate my help". Despite this, Tom gestured to the seat in front of him. Harry hesitated before he shook his head.

"I'll be back tomorrow, with another guy, and it's the last one I'll bring".

Tom watched Harry leave, without another word, and close the door behind him, casting Tom back into darkness.

He would never admit it, to himself even, but the darkness scared Tom. It brought back memories of places and people he didn't know, people he'd, supposedly, killed. Tom stood up, shuffled his way in clinking chains to the small, tattered cot in the corner, and he lay down on it. Maybe tomorrow he gather enough courage to ask Harry for a candle, but for now he curled up tighter and tried to ignore the rattling breath and wash of cold, as another Dementor, stopped outside his cell door to feed.