A Living Dream
By Gedri
Part 1
Standing still was a fascinating experience. After years of not having a body of his own, the newly're-created' Tom Marvolo Riddle was strangely content to be perfectly still and just experience the joy of standing. He could feel his own heart beating. Feel the air as it moved in and out of his lungs. Feel the slight twitch and shift of his leg muscles as they worked to keep him upright. Even the feel of the air as it moved across his skin was fascinating after not feeling it for so long. It was the sound of a soft, pain-filled moan that finally forced him to remember that he wasn't alone.
Open his eyes slowly; he stared through the late night darkness at the small form lying before him. Frail bone-like limbs lay awkwardly beneath a blanket more rightly called a rag. Dark hair laid sweat limp above a face whose unnatural paleness was disguised by a mask of bruises and dried blood. So thin and still, it was only the shallow rise and fall of his breathing that gave any proof that the boy was even alive.
Walking carefully, he was amazed at how natural it felt even though he had to momentarily lean against a weak, and rickety desk to keep himself from falling over. Having gone without the use of legs for so long, it would apparently take a few second to get the hang of it again. With a few tentative steps and leg wiggles, he was finally able to make his away across the room and drop less than gracefully to rest sitting on the floor next to his Savior's bed.
With gentleness that few would believe him capable of, Tom- as he now chose to solely think of himself- brushed a stray strand of hair away from the younger boys face. "What happened to you?" He whispered nervously as he got a better look at how much damage that had been done to the younger boy. "Where are your friends? Why aren't you being protected from me?" Even as he spoke, he began to carefully remove the thin rag covers. Freezing at each hitch of the sleeping boy's breath, he gently dropped it to the floor and knelt in disbelief.
"Reviolio Infermio Degrios"
Looking at the rainbow of colors that now glowed from nearly every inch of the sleeping body, Tom forced himself to focus on the overall lack of darker colors. If he looked too long at just how much color was showing altogether, he feared his anger would interfere with the delicate spell. Drawing his 'new' wand, he marvel yet again at the fact that the boy before him, too weak to even lift his head or open his eyes, had somehow been able to do something that, even having experience it, he couldn't even begin to describe or believe had happened. A wand was made from entirely magical components and impossible to duplicate, yet in his hand rested the twin to his own. How the young boy even knew what his wand core was was a question he would have to ask as soon as the boy was aware enough to speak.
Taking a deep breath to try and calm himself, a distracted and excited mind not being conducive to intricate medical spells, he began to heal his companion. First, he healed the broken bones: one arm, three ribs, seven fingers, one leg, one ankle, six toes, one crushed vertebrae, a smashed nose, and several small cracks in the facial bones around the jaw, nose, and eyes. Then, he cast a relaxation charm on all of the muscles to try and stop the random twitches and spasms that had been causing pain. A more difficult absorption and redistribution spell slowly drew the blood out of the slowly filling lungs and a general healing spell closed up the holes. A cooling charm to keep the rising fever at bay and a disinfection charm to remove the inflammation he could already feel in several of the smaller cuts and scrapes. A general cleaning charm to remove all of the dried blood and sweat on the boy's skin as well as the bed, "blanket", and clothing around him. Feeling lightheaded, the technically 2-hour old boy decided he had done enough for now. His companion was clean and out of pain. All of his bones were healed and various internal organs made whole. The bruises weren't causing any pain and could wait until later to be removed.
With the door still locked, and not wanting to risk opening it and using magic out side the room incase whatever protection had so far kept the Ministry from noticing the use of underage magic disappeared, he looked around the room for a place to rest. A rickety chair that looked like it was being held together by tape and hope. An old desk with a wobbly leg evened with a wad of folded paper. A small closet that was full of old toys and junk. Looking back at the still sleeping form, he made up his mind. If they were really going to be 'best friends' then they should at least be able to lie next to each other. Uncomfortable and small though the bed looked, it was better than lying down on a hard floor already splattered with blood and piles of empty cans of animal food. Carefully lifting the other boy into a more comfortable position, he lowered himself onto the mattress and took a moment to wonder why he felt so calm and relaxed in a room that looked eerily like those he had once kept prisoners in. Absently casting proximity wards to warn them if anyone came near, the once Dark Lord, now seemingly 13-year old Tom, relaxed fully for the first time since he truly was an innocent infant… all of his peace thanks to the unconscious child whose heartbeat he now let lull him to sleep.