A/N: I'm not a native English user and as such, I'm sure there are many mistakes in the story. Do excuse me and I will be glad if you can point it out to me.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This story is written purely for fun and not for money.
Innocent proposal
Chapter 1 – When the lion meet the kitten
The second time I met him was six years later.
As soon as I got used to my new body, I was determined to seek him out. He, a mere one year old baby, had dared to defeat me, the greatest dark lord. I had to take my revenge and prove to those pathetic people who celebrated my temporary downfall that who was the more powerful one. I would make them fear me as before.
It took me a while before I managed to know where the boy was; he was living with his godfather, Sirius Black, at the Blacks ancestral home. Even with much effort, I only managed to obtain a vague idea of where the house was since it was hidden under the Fidelius charm. I was not discouraged by the limited info though. Every day I would apparate to a different area in that district, in hope that by chance, I would catch them out of the house.
Friday was the lucky day that my effort bore fruit when I decided to apparate to a dark alley in Grimmauld Place next to house number eleven.
The moment I stepped out of the alley, a loud shrieking of brake suddenly came from my immediate right. Before I could react, a great force crashed into me, causing me to fall to the ground on my back, and a second later, a small body slammed into mine. Instinctively, my arms went around the slim body. When I finally could react and open my eyes, the first thing I saw was a pair of emerald eyes so green, I felt like I was drowning in them as I looked on.
"Sorry, mister, I didn't see you there." was the first thing the boy said to me. Oh yes, it was a young boy who was riding the bike that crushed into me. He was the owner of that pair of green eyes that got me so mesmerized. When the boy climbed off me clumsily, I finally noticed the cursed lightning scar on his forehead. Inwardly I cheered and laughed; all my days of effort had finally paid off. Here was my nemesis, defenseless and alone. Sitting up, I discreetly flexed my wrist to let my wand slid into my hand, a curse ready on my lips yet the boy's next action stopped me.
"Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry." A pair of worried eyes aimed at me, searching for pain while small hands patted on my arms and legs, checking for injuries. "Are you hurt?" he asked again when I remained silence. The boy was concern about me instead of crying over his scraped knees like any child would.
Somehow, my wand slipped back into the wand holster without my order. "I'm alright." I found myself assuring the boy next. I did not like the panic in those eyes; it seemed wrong to be there. I knew I am not in my usual self but I didn't really care then. I didn't even find it weird for me to take out my handkerchief to wipe off the blood on the boy's knee before tying it around the wound.
"Thank you, mister," the boy thanked me, smiling gratefully. My traitorous hand reached out to ruffle his messy black hair in return.
Seeing that a few passers-by had noticed and were giving us curious looks, I stood to get away. Now that I knew where to locate the boy, I could always come back another day. I made to turn around so that I could walk back to the alley when a pull on my clock stopped me. "Mister, can you tell me your name. I have yet to thank you properly."
My mind went blank at that simple statement. What should I say? Lord Voldemort? No, that would hamper my plan in the future. "Tom, my name is Tom," I said after sometime. I hated my name yet I did not find it as repulsive as before when I told the boy.
"Hi Tom, my name is Harry, and thank you." He smiled brightly at me before nibbling on his lower lip, his expression hesitant. "Can I see you again?" he asked in a small voice.
My only respond was lifting my left eyebrow. My enemy wished to see me? How irony was that.
The child sneaked a peek at me before gathering his courage to speak. "Can you be my friend?" stated the boy in a small voice filled with longing. "I never have any friend. My godfather never let me play with the other kids," he then explained, his little head bowing slightly as if ashamed by the fact that he was friendless.
"You want to befriend me?" I asked incredulously. I felt like I was in an alternate universe. Never in my life was I expecting to hear that.
Eyes shining with child-like trust looked up at me. "You are nice to me," he declared as a matter of fact.
My enemy deemed me as nice? I, the most powerful dark lord, was nice? My ears must be playing tricks on me, yet I found myself saying 'okay' dumbly.
...o.O.0.O.o...
For days, what happened kept repeating in my forth mind. I cursed and berated myself for being stupid to let slip of a golden opportunity to get rid of the boy. The boy most definitely would have told his guardian what had happened and never would he be allowed to leave the house without adults' supervision again.
Even with that possibility, I was still determined to take a chance; I went back next Friday.
Having been there once, I knew where to go so that I wouldn't attract unwanted attention —the small park opposite the row of houses provided me an excuse to be there and a bird-eye view on the street— however I did not count on my bad luck. The moment I walked out of the alley, a squeak of delight reached me before I was being 'attacked'; a pair of small arms went tightly around my waist and a beaming face looked up at me. "You came back like you promised!" the child exclaimed excitedly, "I have been waiting for you."
Did I promise? And he had been waiting for me?
Without my consent, the boy then put his small hand into mine and dragged me to the park across the street. Inwardly I cursed; once again my plan was foiled by the brat. With those passers-by around, I could not possibly kill him without alerting the authorities. I still had to keep my return hushed before I was ready to take on the Ministry.
Oblivious to my dark thoughts, the child chatted happily while he led me through the park. "Look," the boy pointed to a wooden bench five feet away, "that's my favorite seat. I often rest there whenever I'm tired from riding my bike."
"Won't your parents be worried that you are alone outside?" I asked innocently, hoping to get some info out of this unsuspecting boy.
"My parents were dead when I was a baby. I'm raised by my godfather," he answered sadly. Suddenly a small pang hit me in my chest at the pain swimming in those innocent green eyes. "He knows that I'm playing with my bike at this time. I've begged for so long before he says okay." A cute pout replaced the pain in those eyes and I found my lips curled into a smile without my permission. "I was so scared that I would miss you when you came back. Other than going to school, I am only allowed out of the house on Friday at this time, I guess I am lucky."
The child was too trusting to be giving out info to a stranger like me. "You have been waiting for me?" I couldn't help but asked.
"Yeah," he answered shyly. "I look out for you through my windows everyday whenever I can. I thought I could sneak out of the house when I saw you," the child admitted slyly before proclaiming happily, "Friday was truly my lucky day! I only waited at that corner for half an hour before you came."
And it was my unlucky day. "Did you tell your family about me?" I dug for more info.
"Can't!" he exclaimed loudly, "Paddy, he is my godfather, will never let me out of the house again if he knows about you. No, no, you are my only friend. I cannot let him chase you away." A pair of determine pursed lips and a set of clenched jaws appeared after that statement.
Strange warmth blossomed in my chest at the boy's words; a kind of warmth that I couldn't identify. Ignoring it, I continued with my questioning. "I'm sure he will allow you to have friends."
"He doesn't allow me to have any contact with people from the wizarding world," the boy explained sadly. "He never once brings me to Diagon Alley even."
"And why is that?" I asked, letting a confused expression to appear on my face.
"I'm not sure," the boy shrugged dejectedly, "I only knew Paddy agree with what the headmaster said about raising me in the muggle world until I'm old enough to go to Hogwarts. I asked Paddy once and he told me it was for my protection."
"I see," I nodded absentmindedly while inwardly, I was busy thinking through on what I had gathered so far. So the old coot had thought to protect the boy by raising him in the muggle world and perhaps hoping to mould him into a muggle-loving hero too. How naïve. None of his plan would work now; the boy would soon die at my hand.
"Oh no, I have to go back," the child exclaimed, looking at his watch before turning to me with beseeching eyes, "Can we meet again next week? Maybe we can fly a kite together next time."
Me, fly a kite? Oh, I might have no need for stunning spell after all. People most likely would either stun or faint from the sight of me participating in a muggle game. Inwardly I sneered at the idea yet once again I found myself saying 'okay' dumbly before the eager, hopeful face. At that moment, I wished that there was a way to curse traitorous body parts.
...o.O.0.O.o...
"Tom!" Came the happy shout of my name the moment I apparated in my now usual spot which followed by quick footsteps and a hug. Immediately after that, the child pulled me enthusiastically towards the park. Walking side by side, I noticed that instead of a kite, he was holding a lunch box in his hand.
"I thought you want kite flying? Where's your kite?" I asked curiously. Were children that flicker minded?
The child looked up at me mysteriously. "No, I have something better," he announced, grinning widely. Seeing my questioning look, he answered just as mysteriously. "You will see."
After we sat down on the same wooden bench which we occupied last week, the boy lifted the lid off the box, showing me the content. Inside the lunch box were sandwiches which looked dreadfully unappetizing; unrecognizable fillings were drooping out from the center while the slices of bread were flat and slightly soggy. I frowned. Did the boy expect me to eat such sloppy piece of work?
The boy's anticipating face fell at my frown. "You don't like it?" he asked disappointedly, eyes looking towards the ground. "My teacher, Mrs. Polly, told us that we can show our appreciation to the person we like by making them things. I want to thank you from helping me and agreeing to be my friend. I don't know what you like and I only know how to make sandwich." A quiet sniff escaped. "I'm sorry."
For the first time in my life, I was speechless. Yes, I had a lot of followers but they only had fear and awe for me. No one liked me and to hear it from someone saying it so genuinely and to offer their appreciation, albeit it was from a little boy, was enough to make my brain momentary stopped functioning. In a daze, I lifted the small chin and looked into those watery eyes. "Thank you, Harry." And for the first time too, I genuinely thanked a person from my heart.
What I got in return was a brilliant heartfelt grin, causing that same strange warmth to assault me again and spreading through my chest. However it was banished in a blink of an eye by the boy's next sentence. "You have to try them. I made squid with mustard flavor, beef with peanut butter flavor and egg with tomato and mayonnaise flavor."
"Have you tried them before?" I stalled for time to think up an excuse.
"Of course, I loved them. You will love them too because you are my friend," stated the boy as a matter of fact with innocent trust reflecting in his emerald eyes.
I was beaten by the child-like logic. I signed inwardly, resigned to my immediate fate and making a mental note to stock up ingestion potions when I returned... or should it be potions for food poisoning?
...o.O.0.O.o...
None of what I assumed about the boy were correct. He was not a pampered prince but a boy who was entirely too trusting and naïve, a trait which I intended to exploit on after my three failed attempts.
"Harry, there is a place I want to show you. Can you come with me?" Once alone, there would be no more eyewitnesses and no one to interrupt me.
"Where are we going?" he asked, curiosity written all over his face.
I smirked. The boy was simply too trusting. He did not ask why but where. I just needed to get him interested. "A seaside I used to go to when I was a teenager."
"Alright, but we must be back by three or Paddy will scold me," the child reminded me. My smirk intensified.
"Hold on tightly to my arm during apparition," I instructed the boy when we stood at a secluded spot behind a cluster of trees in the park. I expected an immediate compliance but he raised his hands up, waiting for me to pick him up instead. "Paddy always holds me during apparition," he explained when I stood there not moving.
Given no choice, I picked the child up —a bad decision made by me when I reflected much later. Immediately, short legs went around my waist and thin arms wrapped around my neck. Despite my reluctance, my arms automatically went around the slim waist to hold the boy securely before tucking the small head under my chin. With a turn, we left Grimmauld Place in a soft 'click'.
"This is the beach I visited during a school expedition," I stated while trying to put the boy down, but the boy stubbornly refused to let go of me. "Harry, why don't you get down?" I suggested. Well, I had to get him down before I could kill him right?
"No, I can talk to you better like this," he said as a matter of fact, small head turning around, taking in the new environment. "Which school did you go to?"
I wanted to bang my head into a wall. Why was I cursed with bad luck when dealing with Harry Potter? "It's not really a school. I lived in an orphanage. It was during one of the monthly expedition that I got to come here." It didn't matter telling the boy anyway; he was going to die later. I finding it easy to share my bad childhood with him had nothing to do with it.
"You're like me then, an orphan. We both lost our parents," the boy commented empathically. "But you are better than me. I bet you have lots of friends in the orphanage."
"I don't have any friend there. Because of my magic, the children were scared of me and the caretakers treated me as a freak." Tried as I might, my voice still waver slightly as the unfairness and loneliness I once endured rushed to my forth mind clearly.
"Don't feel bad. Now you have me as your friend, we are no longer alone," the child said sincerely, trying to cheer me up.
"We are no longer alone?" I frowned over the boy's odd phrasing.
"I never have a friend until you," the boy explained easily, eyes shining with frank gladness. "Like you, the muggles children in my school avoid me like plague because strange things keep occurring around me. They didn't understand that it was my accidental magic."
Damn the strange warmth! I must think of a way to get rid of it. "Why did you want me to be your friend?" The question slipped past my lips before I could stop it.
"Because you are nice," the child answered promptly without any hesitation.
"Why do you think I am... nice?" I still didn't get it. Nasty, downright evil, cruel were the usual words associated with my name, but nice? How on earth was I being nice?
"You weren't angry at me and you even treated my wound after I crashed into you. You came back as promised. You listen and you talk to me. You didn't ignore me or pretend that I was not there like my classmates did. You are willing to be my friend and spend time with me even though you are an adult. Paddy is always busy with his work and his friends and hardly makes time for me. I only get to see him at breakfast and most of the time it is only me and Kreacher at home. You are the first one who didn't laugh at the sandwiches I made and are willing to eat them. You are nice." The boy spoke as if he was reciting facts and there was no trace of doubt in his voice.
The boy's words cleared up the doubt I had been mulling over as to why his guardian had no inkling that the boy had befriended me even after four weeks; Black had been a neglectful guardian. However this insignificant revelation was brushed aside easily by the burning sensation of the lump that formed at my throat, causing me to lose my ability to speak.
The pair of thin arms around my neck tightened and the child buried his head into my shoulder. "I made once for Paddy but he laughed and said my prank was too lame. He then ordered Kreacher to throw it away without even touching them." Despite his voice was muffled against my shirt, it could not cover up the palpable dejection in it.
It took me a long while to get back my voice and when I finally did, the child had fallen asleep in my arms. With a sigh, I apparated us back since my traitorous hands stubbornly refused to do more than holding the boy close. There was always a chance for me to try again.
...o.O.0.O.o...
Many weeks later, I found myself in a weekly routine of spending an hour and a half of fun-filled time in the company of a seven-years-old boy every Friday afternoon and cursing and self-loathing for the rest of the week.
What kind of magic did the boy wield? Every time I hardened my heart, set to take the boy's life, it would be crushed to nothingness by his innocent trust and smiles and heartwarming hugs. Oh yes, the boy loved giving out hugs. Every little kind words or a pat on the head or an approval smile from me would be enough to earn a hug from the naïve boy. And every time he did, that strange warmth would assault me, spreading through my whole being. Unknowingly, I started looking forward to his next hug and my resolution for revenge waned.
"Tom, when is your birthday?" the child asked me suddenly one day.
I was quite taken aback by that question. "Why do you ask?" I asked after several moments of silence.
"Because I want to know." He shot me a look that said 'are-you-stupid'.
"First of January," I replied stonily, my voice cold. I hated my birthday. It was the day which marked the death of my mother due to my pathetic muggle father's abandonment and the day I was made an orphan. "And why do you want to know?"
"Because friends give each other birthday gift." The impudent child rolled his eyes at me. "Silly Tom," he murmured under his breath.
"Don't call me silly." I growled at him.
Unfazed by my warning tone, the boy bombarded me with another question. "How do you celebrate your birthday?"
"Never."
"Not even once?" the boy cocked his head to the side and looked at me curiously as if I was a rare insect specimen.
"No," I replied frostily. Just as I was getting frustrated by the boy's persistent questioning, he climbed onto my laps and put his arms around my neck.
"We shall celebrate your birthday this time," the boy said next to my ear, "with present," promised the child. Just like that, the boy's warm hug and sincere promise easily loosened the tightness gathered in my chest.
True to his words, the boy did indeed give me a birthday present made by himself the week after Christmas. It was a leather wristband which was made by thin leather strips woven together into a band.
"I asked Kreacher to help attached the metal clasp only." The child explained shyly while I studied the gift. "But I made the rest myself, really!" he said earnestly, sincere wide green eyes urging me to believe.
Somehow that wristband ended up as a permanent accessory on my left wrist.
...o.O.0.O.o...
The day I realized that the boy had somehow, without me knowing, wormed his way into my heart was three months later. I could never forget what happened that day.
As usual, the child hugged me goodbye before returning home. Like always, I stood by the wooden bench as I watched him make his way back. When he turned around to give me a final wave-goodbye by the side of the road, it happened; Bellatrix Lestrange apparated in next to him. With one glance at the lighting scar, she lashed out immediately, grabbing the boy's upper arms in vice-like grip. "My lucky day! My first attempt and I got itty-bitty potty boy." She cracked up and with a turn, apparated away with the child.
The scream of my name before the child disappeared unfroze me. Not wasting a single second, I ran, wandlessly casting a strong notice-me-not on myself before slipping my wand into my hand as I went. Standing at the spot where the boy last stood, I waved my wand in a complex pattern, tracing the tail of that apparation which happened less than a minute before. Never had I been as grateful of my vast knowledge, which I acquired during my travel, as I did at the moment while I waved my wand diligently; tracing apparition was a skill only known to unspeakable and it had to be done within the first minute before the trace was completely gone. The instance I managed to pin-point the location, I apparated.
I found myself standing in a thick forest near to the mouth of a cave. Swiftly, I casted silent charm on my feet and walked carefully but hurriedly in. As I ventured deeper into the cave, I could hear Bellatrix's crazy rant, accompanied by soft sobbing, floating out from within. "You should feel honor, potty boy. You are the first person that I seek out after I broke out of Azkaban. My dear cousin forgets that I'm once a Black. There's no way for you to hide from me," her voice was full of gleefulness, "And now for my master, you die!"
"NO! Tom will come! He will save me from you!" the child shouted back bravely despite the fright which I could clearly hear in his voice.
Crazy, insane laughter resounded throughout the cave. "Nobody is coming, punk. Get ready to DIE!"
The scene I came upon was forever etched in my mind. There was a ball of green light at the tip of Bellatrix's wand and a killing spell half spoken on the witch's tongue. Before her on the ground was the frightened and ashen boy bundled up in thick ropes. There was no hesitation on my part. My killing curse shot off before the woman could complete hers.
As soon as those ropes came off, the boy threw himself into my arms, sobbing his heart out. Little hands wrapped around my neck to near suffocation yet I didn't mind. It was when the boy was safe and sound in my arms did I notice how hard my frantic heart was beating and how clammy my palms were, and realize how contradicting my behavior was.
I should be elated when Bellatrix made to grab the boy yet I was frozen on the spot. I should be rejoicing to see the boy got abducted yet my heart stopped when he disappeared from my sight. Instinctively only one thought came to my mind and that was to rescue the brat at all cost. I didn't even feel a slightest regret over killing one of my most loyal followers. In fact I felt that she deserved to die from harming my Harry. It was in the face of these revelations that I knew the boy had become precious to me. Somehow, the boy, in his own special way, had wormed his way in and built a permanent nest in my heart. I vowed there and then that no matter what, I would keep the boy by my side forever.
"Are you alright?" I asked when his sobbing subsided. Not waiting for an answer, I pushed him away at arm length so that I could check him for injuries; a large red hand print adorned his left cheek while ugly ropes marks littered on his arms and legs. I breathed a sigh of relief at no sign of life-threatening wound before proceeding to heal those marks.
"I knew you would come and save me," the child said while I healed him, his voice hoarse from crying.
"Did you?" I replied absentmindedly while concentrating on treating those bruises.
"Of course!" He pouted cutely, offended by me doubting his words.
The sincere conviction in the boy's eyes had me reached out and gathered him back into my arms tightly. Even if I didn't deserve this boy, I was not going to let go.
"Harry, I will teach you Occlumency from now on," I announced when I deemed the child had calmed down enough to listen to me. The Light, especially Dumbledore, must never find out about us. I wouldn't put it pass them not to subject to extreme means in order to keep my Harry away from me.
"Okay," he agreed easily and readily.
"Do you know what Occlumency is?" I lifted my left eyebrow questioningly at him. The mind art was an obscure subject, the boy couldn't have known yet he agreed as if he did.
"No, I don't but I will once you teach me," the child answered as a matter of fact, giving me his patented are-you-stupid look.
I pinched the bridge of my nose; the boy was too trusting, I had to work on that too. "Occlumency is a skill that protects your mind from mental intrusion. If people like your godfather or Dumbledore reads your mind and finds out about me, you will not be able to see me again. Not only must you not tell others about me, you have to protect your mind too. Do you understand?" I looked straight into his eyes solemnly as I spoke to emphasize the seriousness of the issue.
The boy simply nodded his head despite my dubious explanation. "I don't like the headmaster. He looks like a kind old grandfather but I find him creepy. The first time I look at him, I feel as if he can see right through me and the twinkle in his eyes makes him look so silly."
I chuckled lightly. "Next time don't look into his eyes. The headmaster knows how to read a person's mind and to do that, he has to look into that person's eyes first."
"I hide in my room every time he visits after that."
"Good." I smirked.
...o.O.0.O.o...
I understood that in order to truly keep the boy by my side, I had to tell the boy who I really was and my role in his parents' demise, yet I dreaded doing so. The thought of losing my Harry, losing those precious care and concern were more frightening than the thought of losing my life. I was trapped in a dilemma until an injury changed that.
During one of the searches for my lost Horcrux, the Slytherin locket, I was landed with a leg injury. The vines of the Venus-vine plant secreted a kind of poisonous sap which had a natural resistance to healing potions and spells and thus I was still limping when Friday came.
Of course the child immediately spotted my limp. After I finished explaining as to how I gotten the injury, the boy unexpectedly placed his palms on top of my right knee where the injury was and closed his eyes in concentration. Before I could stop him, a rush of warm magic flowed through my leg and a few moments later, the dull throbbing and stiffness were completely gone from my aching knee.
I hauled the boy onto my laps. "How did you do that?" I demanded. There was no reprimand in my question, only curiosity. A seven-year-old boy couldn't have been taught healing spells, let alone a wandless one.
"I hurt my elbow once. I dare not tell Paddy but it hurt so much so I wish very hard for it to go away and it did. I just thought maybe I can help you too. Are you angry?"
I shook my head in negative while the implication of that amazing feat of wandless magic hit me straight in the face. The boy's concern for me was so strong and pure that his magic responded and acted upon his wish, successfully healing an injury which was hard to be healed.
It was then that I understood that in order to truly deserve my Harry's love, I had to come clean.
...o.O.0.O.o...
Since that day the boy turned around and ran home without saying anything after my confession, he did not return to the park next Friday and the next, and the next. Each time he didn't turn up, my heart got heavier and heavier. By fourth week, I almost gave up until I spotted the boy already seated there on the bench. He had tears running down his cheeks and his eyes were red and puffy.
Seeing the boy's tearstained face caused quick sharp pains to stab me in my heart. I approached swiftly and without thinking, I collected him onto my laps and cuddled the small body close, stroking his back to soothe him while his tears soaked through my shirt. "What's wrong?" I asked when his crying receded somewhat.
"I thought that... you are not going to return because... I didn't come for three weeks," the boy said, occasionally hiccupping in between his words. "I thought you... don't want me anymore."
"Am I forgiven?" I asked instead.
"Uh hum." He gave me a watery smile. "I know you didn't want to kill me anymore or you wouldn't have saved me from that crazy witch. I know I am safe with you because you have never hurt me since I know you. I know I can trust you because you did tell me the truth, you could have continued not to say anything. I'm sorry that I took so long to understand that."
A lump formed in my throat while I marveled at the child's capacity to accept, to love and to forgive. Not once did the boy blame me for his parents' death. Instead he was afraid that I would throw him away and apologized to me. I should be the one to apologize. "It's alright," I replied as I wiped away the tears on his cheeks using my thumb.
"Tom?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
"Me too," I murmured, touched by the simple, honest declaration of love. Instinctively, my arms tightened around the boy, bringing him to me as close as possible.
...o.O.0.O.o...
When I thought I was done being surprised by the child, he proved me wrong.
Like always, I waited in the park at our usual spot. As soon as I spotted the boy approaching, I noticed the bulge around his stomach. "What do you have there?" I asked when he was near enough.
"I found him in the backyard," the boy undid the shirt's buttons around the bulge and coaxed a small green snake which was hiding inside to slither onto his hand, "Paddy refused to allow me to keep him. I tried to hide him but Paddy found out. He was very mad and made me throw him away. Can you keep him? I think Nagini will like him."
Before I could speak, the snake started hissing. "I told you, Master, I don't want to go. Other human don't speak snake. If that dog man scolds you again I will let him have a taste of my venom."
What happened next stunned me. The boy stroked the snake's head in gentle strokes and hissed back, "No, Greenpea, you cannot bite Paddy because he is my godfather. Tom here will take good care of you. He is my best friend." He tried to persuade the snake which obviously was named Greenpea by him.
I would never believe if I had not heard it myself. A boy who had no connection to the Slytherin line was a parselmouth. Automatically, my sight fell onto the boy's forehead. Instinctively, I reached out to trace the lightning scar. The moment our skins contacted, tingles travelled up my fingers.
"Don't move, Harry. And relax, I want to try something," I ordered the boy. Even though the child was puzzled by me, he complied.
I put my fingers back onto the scar and steadily pushed my magic into it. What I found shocked me; a piece of my soul was enclosed in the boy's scar while I had a very tiny piece of his in me, at the middle of my chest where the killing curse struck. The killing curse had severed a very tiny piece of the boy's soul when it grazed his forehead, bringing the soul piece to me when it rebounded. And when the curse struck me, it too torn my soul and that piece of me was shoved along the trail the curse left behind back to the boy. The soul pieces created a bond which akin to a soul bond between us. With that kind of bond connecting us, it was no wonder the child trusted me so much and I simply found it hard to kill the boy; to harm him will be like harming me.
"What is it?" the boy inquired after I stopped. "My scar tingles when you do that."
"It appears that when I tried to kill you when you were a baby, the curse caused a piece of your soul to go into me and a piece of mine to go into your scar, creating a bond between us. That soul piece of mine in your scar grants you the ability to speak to snake."
"You can speak to snake?" the boy asked with surprise written all over his face.
"Yes, I can," I hissed back.
Two excited responds immediately followed. "Another speaker!" "Cool, Tom."
The child then turned to the green snake and grinned triumphantly. "See Greenpea, I told you I don't have to hide from Tom."
"Well, wizards don't like us and I didn't know your friend can speak snake too," the green snake argued back smoothly.
My calculating mind switched on fully at that exchange. "Harry, did anyone hear you speak parseltongue? I mean snake language." I clarified when confusion showed on his face.
"No one did. I only find out three days ago I can speak to snake when I found Greenpea and he told me not to speak snake in front of people. I told him it was alright if it was you but he wouldn't believe me." The boy pouted cutely while the green snake shot him a snake glare.
"Greenpea is right, Harry, promise me not to speak parseltongue in front of others except me. Most wizards are prejudice towards snakes and parselmouth. They see the ability to talk to snake as being evil. It will be troublesome if people know," I explained as simple as possible, leaving out the possible complications if that fact was made public.
"So this was what Greenpea meant when he told me that," the boy remarked as understanding dawned on his face.
Seeing that the child had understood the importance of keeping his newfound special ability a secret, I relaxed. "Yes, and you can do without this prejudice nonsense."
"It's just plain stupid, Greenpea is not evil," the boy declared, indignant on the behalf of his snake.
"But wizards do not think so, Master. Many of my siblings were killed or captured simple because wizards thought us as evil. I'm lucky to have survived for so long," hissed the snake in sadness.
The child stroked the snake in comfort. "Greenpea, I'm sorry Paddy is mean to you." He turned to look at me pleadingly. "Please, Tom, can you keep him?"
I studied the snake curling protectively around the boy's arm before coming to an easy decision. This snake obviously had taken to the boy. It would be an asset in protecting my Harry in the future. "I have a big garden which I think you will like. I'm sure Nagini, my snake familiar, would like some company too."
The snake reared its head proudly. "I would like that. Thank you, speaker," it hissed regally, looking straight at me proudly.
I chuckled. Nigini would definitely like her new companion.
...o.O.0.O.o...
It was half a year later on the desolate beach, which we frequently visited for our lesson, did the issue of our bond were brought up, and in turn, an unexpected but very welcome surprise.
"Tom, what do you mean when you said that there is a bond between us that day?" the boy asked curiously while wandlessly levitating a small pebble. Since he had shown wandless magic aptitude, I had been teaching him in that aspect on top of the Occlumency lesson.
"It means we are linked together. We have a certain degree of awareness of each other; we can sense each other."
"Then that means I guess right. This is really yours," he remarked before reaching into his pocket to take out a silver locket and shoved it into my hand.
"Where did you get this?" I demanded as I stared at the Slytherin locket lying on my palm. I had searched every possible place where it could be hidden by Regulus Black and failed. I had assumed it was destroyed like the note, which was stuffed inside the fake locket, said and yet here it was, delivered into my hand without any effort on my part.
"Paddy had Kreacher thrown away many of the things kept in his brother's room. It was among the pile of things he intended to throw away. When I saw the locket, I could sense you in it so I took it when Paddy was busy looking at somewhere else." The child had a smug look on his face, his emerald eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Thank you, Harry. This locket is very important to me." I said sincerely while berating myself inwardly. It never occurred to me to ask the boy to search through Regulus's room; I should have known better.
"I'm glad I can help." The boy smiled brightly before asking curiously, "Why is it that I can sense you in the locket? It is as if you are hiding inside the thing."
"Remember what I said about soul pieces?"
"Yea..." The child nodded slowly.
"I deliberately put a piece of my soul inside the locket so that I won't die even when my body is destroyed," I explained as simple as possible.
A thoughtful expression appeared on the boy's face at my explanation. "Does that means I won't die too because you have a piece of me in you?"
"Yes." I nodded solemnly, watching closely for the boy's reaction. Would he blame me for his ripped soul?
"That's great," he remarked, cocking his head to the side cutely, a warm smile blossoming on his face, "we will be friends forever."
...o.O.0.O.o...
A/N: Hope you enjoy the story. Please note that the next update will take a long time to be posted.