Author's note: It's been so long since I've managed to post a story. This is just a sorta drabble like thingy that wanted to write itself for myself primarily but maybe some of you might enjoy it :D and it's not proofread so I might go back tomorrow and edit it. Some Fluff and twisted stuff. Here's a happy valentines fic to everyone!
"Parseltongue"
The last thing he remembered was falling into a room with enchanted markings. He caught a glimpse of the dark robes. What could've been two or three people who pushed him in. Green and silver. Slytherins. Hermione always told him to be more careful.
Harry would've chased them right away if only it wasn't so hard to stand up. "What… why… can't… I move…?" Pretty soon, he was kneeling on the floor, dizzy. He felt as if he was going to pass out.
He felt trapped, like his magic was getting sapped away. He tried to scream but strangely he couldn't get a word out. His hands tried to claw the floor.
Runes glowed around him as he collapsed on the floor. A drop of blood fell from the tip of his finger and the most excruciating pain followed.
A multitude of colors flittered past him, and he felt as if his body was getting mangled, stretched and torn. He wanted it to stop.
Then when the darkness lifted he was moaning weakly. He heard shouting, glass shattering. It was a deafening roar and it felt too hot, like he was on fire. The floor was dark, black, singed. It happened in almost a heartbeat. His eyes watered at the pain.
The twelve-year-old struggled to look up. He could barely move his body.
Wands were pointed at him. They were Hogwarts students but none of them looked familiar. Except for one… Harry felt the recognition instantly.
"Tom?"
Harry felt movement and closed his eyes. He didn't feel too good.
"How do you know my name, little one?"
Icy green eyes stared back at him. A hand touched his chin and Harry whimpered.
"Look at me."
Harry felt fear at the force of the command. Unwillingly, he opened his eyes again, and saw Tom smile at him, pleased.
Then, his thoughts turned haywire. How could Tom touch him? Where was he? It was so painful. The flash of runes that glowed golden. Hermione, petrified. The diary, Ron, Ginny, the stone, Hogwarts, his cupboard, the Dursleys, Dumbledore. Parseltongue. Quirrel. Voldemort. His life was flashing through his eyes and it hurt so much he felt like his head was going to pop. He felt blood come out of his nose, and he let out a weak plea in his head for it to stop.
Then, it was over.
"Lower your wands. He is not a threat."
"But My Lord, he disrupted-"
"I do not want to repeat myself, Rosier."
Tom Riddle looked at the weak creature before him. To think that such a pitiful thing was able to thwart his future self again and again.
His wand itched to cast the killing curse, but he hesitated because something within him was calling out towards the child. He has yet to create the Diary Horcrux and with this he knew he would succeed but he did not desire the future that seemed to have played out.
He did not want to become the monster that haunted the boy's nightmares. It was but a sad a pitiful existence.
Tom kneeled beside the boy. He would have to make sure the child was not a threat. Slowly, he began casting a dark binding spell. It was similar to the marks of his knights, but this one didn't compel obedience, it would merely tie the child to him letting him know where he is, and when the child ventures too far, there would be pain. He wondered why his other self didn't use the boy as the sacrifice, and chose another. The pathetic weasley girl who seemed to be enamored with his prey. He knew anyone who began to write on his Diary was meant to be slowly killed… but as to why hasn't the boy succumbed to its effects… was the big question.
"What are you?"
His green eyes momentarily flashed red at the dots that began to connect itself. He was in denial that his other self would miss the signs that the child might have their soul… but he would have to test that theory. He began opening the boy's robes and the little one protested, green eyes closing shut, whimpering brokenly and trying to stop his hands from jostling him but he was entirely too weak.
"Shh… I won't hurt you, little one."
The creature was in too much pain and his followers stood in attention at his use of parseltongue.
"Please… make it stop."
Tom Marvolo Riddle shivered at the voice. To hear it spoken by another one was truly a first. He could feel his followers murmur as they began to conjecture that perhaps the child is truly not a threat if he also speaks the language of the snakes. Tom smiled, wondering if he should save the child his misery and let him die, just to prove his followers wrong but knew the child was far too valuable.
"You won't die. It'll all be over soon… why don't you sleep little one?"
He willed his magic to force the child into slumber, and the child's pathetic struggling stopped.
As he peeled away the tattered clothing, he saw the bruises and cuts that decorated the child's chest. He vanished the clothes in distaste seeing as they were torn and soaked with blood.
He felt concern, and that was in itself a foreign feeling. It felt peculiar. "Stay with me, Avery, I will need your assistance. The rest of you, go back to the dorms."
After dealing with the child's injuries, he began modifying his memories. He then began to place doubt on the boy's mind of his beloved headmaster Dumbledore and slowly painstakingly removed the boy's memory of his friends and of the future. He retained the memories of his life with the muggles, and weaved it expertly. He would vaguely know of magic but everything will be muddled. The child would know who his savior was. They would write it off as a case of amnesia and desperate wish magic as the boy was abused.
Avery helped him tell a believable story to the healer who brought Dippet and a rather skeptical Albus Dumbledore. Something dark simmered in his chest at the thought of how the child suffered under the man's misguided sense of duty.
"We found him in the west wing. He got through the wards, but he's horribly injured. I treated some of his wounds headmaster, however he still needs healing."
"What if he's a spy?" The headmaster asked, paranoid at the looming war in the horizon.
"Oh, Armando, he's but a child. Let him rest. When he's well, we'll ask him all the questions."
Albus stroked his beard and began, "I agree, however the wards should have alerted us if there was an intruder… perhaps we need to examine it tonight."
"That would be a good idea."
"I would like to watch over him, headmaster. I feel like he is my responsibility." Tom requested.
Beside him, Avery bit his lip, "I would like to stay as well, headmaster. If he turns out to be a spy, then we will be the first to apprehend him."
"Nonsense, children." The mediwitch grumbled, and began, "He is a child. What kind of witch am I if I can't protect myself? It's quite late, and you still have classes tomorrow. Armando, please talk some sense to these two."
Tom looked at the headmaster, earnestly, and the headmaster relented, "20 points to Slytherin. Each. For an outstanding show of concern for the welfare of an injured child. Tom Riddle, you are allowed to stay and watch over the child, however there is no need for two of you. I would advise that you return to your dorm the moment you feel tired, or ask Leona if there is a bed you can use."
Tom smiled, "Thank you, headmaster."
The boy stirred on the bed, whimpering. Tom found himself beside the kid and the child quieted. His forehead was bleeding. The scar was inflamed.
"Out! All of you."
They brought out veritaserum and used it on the child even when minors weren't allowed to have it.
Harry didn't know his last name, and opted to take the last name of his rescuer and thus Harry Riddle came to be.
Then, upon sorting, he was pleased that his little one became a part of the house of snakes.
Now, he was stroking Nagini's head who lay on both of their laps. They sat by the fireplace with his followers close by, guarding them. The child didn't know of the small nuances of the hierarchy and was oblivious to the show of power.
The little boy looked at him with trust and innocence.
"Why did you save me, Tom?"
Tom smiled, but it never quite reached his eyes.
"Is there a reason not to?"
Harry bit his lip and looked down, "I… remember… I was dying. You… they called me a freak… and then if I'm so worthless… if you weren't there…"
The budding dark lord took the child's hands and he felt the pleasant hum of their magic, finally mingling. It was a powerful and consuming feeling. Bliss. Contentment. He heard the child's breathing come quicker, and red blossom on his cheeks.
'Such a sweet thing.' He thought. "You are not a freak, nor are you worthless Harry. I won't let them hurt you. Not anymore. Your life is precious… and I wanted to save it. That's all there is to it, little one."
Harry nodded, his throat felt tight.
"You're upset?" He asked.
Harry shook his head, "No… I'm glad."
Harry wiped his eyes, and sighed trying to change the topic of the convrsation. "Oh, Tom. You know, someone gave me chocolates. I haven't opened the rest yet, would you like some too?"
"Harry, who gave you those chocolates?"
Tom felt the monster inside of him crawl out as his magic began to wrap around his most prized possession. "Tell me."
Harry twirled a lock of his hair and looked away, as if knowing his mind could be read. He knew his little one didn't know of his ability to read minds however. "I… I don't know her… older year? Gryffindor? They said something about a muggle…" His magic let loose and Harry shivered in response before whimpering. Harry's body fell sideways, as if he was a puppet whose strings got cut and Tom caught him. Nagini moved away and began curling up closer to the fire. The child whimpered as Tom carefully arranged the boy on his lap. He asked, "Are you alright?"
The green eyes looked up at him and he glimpsed of the memory. It was not in fact just one girl but seven, the damned number. His little bird was eating from the different boxes without even checking if he was poisoned.
"Tom, my head hurts." Green eyes watered, and Tom reigned in his temper, "perhaps it was from the chocolates you ate. Never try anything that strangers give to you, they might be laced with love potions, or worse."
"What's a love potion?"
Tom's fingers twitched.
"It's exactly as the name implies. Would you like to be forced to love someone, Harry?"
Harry's face fell, and he looked guilty at what he did. Appeased, Tom sighed, and the malevolent magic that stirred in the slowly disappeared. "No, Tom… I think it'd be horrible."
"It is. So don't eat them… without telling me. I will know, Harry."
Harry felt affronted, "What if you're not here anymore?"
"That won't be a problem, I will find ways."
Harry began to laugh, and said, "…well, what about when you're out of school?"
"Then you will be prudent enough to learn spells that will detect if there is poison."
Harry began to hum and Tom wondered why he was having the conversation. "Ok. I'll learn it if you teach me."
"Your Gryffindor friends are influencing you."
Harry huffed and pushed himself away from Tom's lap, but a hand kept his shoulders there. And then, red eyes were staring at him. For a moment Harry felt cold fear. A part of him associated red eyes with something horrible. Something he couldn't quite remember.
There was a hand on his pulse and all of a sudden he couldn't breathe.
"What if you were forced to love me, little one?"
Harry was surprised at the question and the red was back to green. Harry found that he could breathe again
"You're my savior Tom… so if it was you… I don't think I would mind… because I… I should be dead by now…"
"I see. Tell me, Harry. Are you happy now, where you are?"
And inside him, Tom wondered if it would have played differently had he not erased the child's memories. What would have happened if he revealed himself to be the monster that ruined Harry's life as a child. Would this creature be gazing at him with adoration then? He was never one to deny himself of the pleasure however, and he would take what he could. Would the boy be in perpetual misery? He wondered which one he preferred.
Once the Diary horcux was made, Tom felt a little detached. Behind him, Harry was crying.
"You weren't supposed to see that, Harry."
"She was my friend Tom! She didn't deserve to die! Why did you kill her?"
"Crucio."
Harry screamed. He started begging and crying and Tom wondered what made Harry different. What made him different from the rest.
"Expulso."
A shattered arm.
The child was crawling away. Afraid.
He raised his wand into an ark that was meant to break more bones.
Backed into a wall, his precious one looked up at him with fire and glowing green eyes, "You promised you won't hurt me." Hatred. That was familiar.
Tom wasn't sure if he liked it. He vaguely remembered the child looked better smiling up at him.
"Harry, don't make me break my promises. Or I'll break you."
Tom grinned, all teeth. "I hate you! I remember… I know who you are. You deceived me. You made me believe you! You're a liar! I'll kill you!"
"Obliviate."
In the end, Harry was brought to his Orphanage, and there, he wrapped the boy in lies. Lies that made the child more susceptible to his manipulations. He told him a story of falsehood mixed with truth. He told him he was abused by the muggles just like he was… that's why he fought, that's why they feared him. That's why they should leave.
It was addicting making the creature love him, empathize with him when just a few weeks ago, the child was ready to kill him for his deceptions… but it was a game that he was willing to play.
He would bind him just like how he did with his Knights. And then more… More, because the monster in him won't be sated until he had everything. And when he had it, then perhaps he would let the boy know the truth just to torment the pure creature.
He told him of his vision for the Magical Community. He told Harry he would probably become a monster that he was dark, evil and he should be detested.
That was the truth if he wasn't already a monster for enjoying it so much.
He then began to wonder if Harry Potter would survive this game. He pressed the lithe body against him inhaling the unique scent. After every murder, and every lie, his little one would splinter and break but that would come in the future.
For now, he'd enjoy the simplicity of having him close by. For now he kissed the sleeping child.
