100 Little Things, FanFiction Challenge
23. Go for a long walk on the beach at midnight
Work's Title: And They Emulate
Pairing: TMR/Harry
Notes: This will be from Tom's perspective (not his narrative), as the two walk the beach together. I personally find something very powerful about the ocean, at night, and feel that Tom would agree.
Italicized dialog is Parseltongue, as usual.
There is a special sort of magic that is contained within the ocean. It is deep, powerful and invoking to Tom. He strolled alongside Harry in silence — for the most part — pondering various things:
The way the black of night seemed to amplify the endlessness of the ocean, and how the sound of swooshing water crashed on land, never wavered. He wondered how many had been pulled deep within its bowels, to never return again; how many on this very night, would drown in its depths.
The ocean was relentless. Unknown. Dangerous. He thought the ocean was much like himself, of course. Yet mostly, he thought of how the ocean seemed unaffected by the white light of the moon, to only reflect upon Harry's face. It was as though there was a true darkness to the night waters, which no goodness could penetrate.
It made sense, in a metaphorical way that Harry would suck up all the light in the world.
Harry's voice was softened by the sound of water. "Thanks for coming out here with me, Tom.
The light was drawn to Harry, and he reflected it back onto others. Tom was grim to admit that Harry had reflected onto him as well. The true conundrum was… had he influenced Harry?
"If you're still mad at me, then why did you even bother?"
"It was an unfortunate loss, yet I've grown to foresee such things with you. What's done is done." Harry frowned at Tom's admittance.
A young muggle couple were sitting close, arms wrapped around one another and staring into the blackness, as Tom and Harry passed. He wondered what they might do if he forced them into the sea; he wanted to watch. Tom hummed.
"Nonetheless, the news of our whereabouts shall have spread by now…"
"I heard from the others that a few official looking wizards were snooping around in the village, asking about us."
Tom's eyes sharpened, as he felt hesitation and anxiety roll off of Harry's form.
"So?"
"So what?"
Riddle's posture became rigid. He watched a muggle man, with trepidation, as he jogged past them. Harry followed along silently, shoulders hunched. Through gritted teeth, Tom followed his previous train of thought once again.
"If you don't tell me now, I shall force it from the others when we return. Spare me the effort, won't you? "
Harry turned to look at him. He opened his mouth, a retort upon his lips just as his eyes quickly glanced away and back again. He snapped his jaw shut. Looking forward, he inched ever so closer to Tom, his hand lightly brushing the others. A whisper:
"I think we're being followed."
Slowly, Tom withdrew his wand, positioning it on the front of his robes as Harry prepared his own. Tom's knuckles whitened around the shaft. He attempted to clear his mind, to no avail, as another muggle jogged past. The two walked on.
"We've been betrayed, then. You knew, didn't you?"
"Why does someone always have to betray us? Maybe… just maybe whoever they are, just figured it out? It's not impossible, you know."
"I know you, Harry. This is precisely something you would do. It's wrong to protect them!" Tom said, in a harsh whisper.
Harry's next rebuttal was drowned, as Tom watched the third muggle jog past. With acute observation, Tom mused, the muggle didn't seem to notice the two of them… as if… as if wearing long, dark robes on a beach were perfectly normal. Muggles feared what was strange to them, and these muggles were… oblivious. His face went slack.
Tom hissed through his teeth: "Imperius!"
Harry's eyes widened. "You're taking it way too far… we would have known immediately—"
Tom pressed his hand to quiet Harry.
The two stopped walking, as Tom turned towards the other. He cupped Harry's face and brushed his lips over the other's. Using the gesture, he looked to his left… and far ways behind them, the dark outlines of two wizards had stopped moving. Each, standing, with a wand to their sides, clearly observing the interaction.
Suddenly, Tom swelled with anticipation towards the impending battle. Eyes manic, he grasped Harry's left arm and hissed into his ear:
"What should we do to them… do you think? We have options. We could hurt them, kill, or demand information… we could do all of these things!"
Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. "Tom I don't think you should. I just wanted to walk with—"
But Tom had already made them known. He had left Harry far behind, quickly approaching the two figures. Harry stood in his spot, wand aloft, as he tried to listen to the murmurs from afar. It was to no avail, however, since Tom swiftly initiated the battle.
The first spell was cast, and Tom felt like his heart was a drum; steadily, it beat faster and harder while the ocean waves crashed and the wizards screamed. Their faces were now alight with terror. Yes, yes… he provoked their pure fear.
They hadn't the chance to utter a single spell before one was twitching on the sand, and the other — Tom mused — was drowning. He took extra delight, eager in his mania, as he observed the man's thrashing.
Again, he wondered in ardent contemplation if he should gather the muggles as well? He could plunge into the depths of their minds, as they begged for air… to keep surviving. He would feel it, as their lives were extinguished.
He felt his face and chest burn with want. With need. His heart rigidly thumped against his ribcage. Laughing to himself, he raised the wizard out of the water, simply to watch him regurgitate the salty water, only to choke on the harsh air. Such a tease!
Indeed! He resolved to finish with these weaklings, and then he would seek out whatever remaining muggles, who were —
"Tom! TOM!"
He was wrenched out of his reverie, by his wand arm being yanked down. Harry rushed to levitate the drowning man from the waters and set him near the fallen wizard.
Riddle watched, detached, as Harry dried the man, stunned him, and went to work on the other. How odd, Harry was panting. He stood, and faced Tom.
"Why? Why? Can't we just have one night, where you don't go on a murderous rampage? Is it really that hard for you, Lord-I-am-in-control?" Harry stared at him, crossed.
Tom understood well. He would never admit to having lost control—No— he knew precisely what he was doing in those moments. It felt right, and he was resolute to think that even Harry would agree.
These wizards were following them, undoubtedly to attack, as well as collect information in any form conceivable.
What was wrong with having a little fun, while disposing of them?
It was no matter. And so Tom sighed, breathing in the moist, salty from the ocean. He delicately approached Harry and the fallen wizards.
He hovered his wand over the bodies, and checked for any lasting injuries. Perfectly normal, he thought, of course.
Tom turned to Harry. He was still distressed. Whether it was for these men or for Tom, could not be revealed.
"Obliviate them." Harry said.
Tom looked at the men blankly, as he spoke the incantation.
"Anything else? Should we rent them a room? Invite them over for lunch?"
Harry glowered at Tom, while playfully shoving him away. Tom laughed in return, stepping forward and forcing his arms around the other.
"Do you know what reminds me of you?"
"What?"
"The Moon. It's in perfect harmony between that which is dark and light. Yet when it catches the light, it fills the darkness… just enough. "
"Then I guess the ocean is like you… 'cause it's just as black as your soul!"
Tom's lips inched upwards. It was all true, then. Harry knew it too. Even if his soul was inevitably black, Harry was still there to reveal what luminosity still remained.
"Well, thanks for coming out here with me, I guess."
Harry would remain, not matter what trials Tom may force him to endure, and vice versa.
He reached over and slid his hand into Harry's.
In a matter-of-fact tone, Tom responded: "Anything for you, Harry."
