CHAPTER TWO OF ASHES TO ASHES

"SPEECH LOOKS LIKE THIS."
'THOUGHTS LOOK LIKE THIS.'
FLASHBACKS AND DREAMS LOOK LIKE THIS.

THANK YOU TO THOSE THAT TOOK THE TIME TO REVIEW/FAVED/ALERTED!
YOU'RE MUCH APPRECIATED.

CHEERS!

Tom Riddle wanted to break Harry Potter. He had wanted to as soon as he had seen those vibrant green eyes snap onto his face. Harry Potter's lips had parted creating an almost o-like shape, and Tom hadn't missed the sudden widening of his almond shaped eyes as his pupils dilated.

'From surprise,' Tom had mused, "or maybe attraction?'

But it wasn't from those actions that had caused Tom to take interest. No, it had been the defiance – and power – in those green eyes that had caught his attention. It had given him a thrill when the boy, no man, had snapped at him telling him ruggedly that he was in fact twenty-three and not a teenager. Although it was hard to believe that such a short man - Tom would guess that he was maybe 5'2 at most and practically a midget if compared to Tom's own height of 6'4 - with a baby face like that was already twenty-three, but he guessed, some people where just blessed – or would it be a curse – with youthful looks.

Tom was amused when he had found out the man hadn't read his files. He had gotten those before, one of those let's start off with a fresh clean plate type of psychiatrists, they never lasted long. They were like sheep being put inside a wolf's den, just waiting to be eaten, and Tom had to admit he had been slightly put off when he had thought that his new green eyed toy was one of them – a weak little sheep. He had wanted to ask the man exactly that, if he wanted to start off on a clean plate, but he had held back and merely hummed.

He observed the man as he left his book on his table, 'He's nervous and scared. He's balling up his fist, and he looks as if he's about to run.'

'Scared,' he had wanted to ask, 'Am I making you nervous?' Was another, but he held himself back, it wouldn't be right to frighten off his prey now would it? So he had settled with asking if he would be joining him for dinner, although he already knew the answer to that – there was only one set of food after all. When the intercom had gone off the man had jumped impossibly high into the air, 'An athlete perhaps?' The thought ran through his head.

'He's beautiful,' Tom had thought as he calmly observed the slightly flushed face, once the man had calmed somewhat. He wanted to play with him and see what other expressions he could make, but after hearing the intercom, he had deducted that there was a high possibility that this Mister Potter would not be returning to him. Tom couldn't have that. No, he was much too interested in those green eyes to just let him go. He would talk to Dumbledore and have it his way.

"I'm sorry Tom, but I'm afraid Harry is the one person I cannot allow you to toy with."

Tom had played that over and over in his head. Why? Why was Harry Potter so special to Dumbledore that he couldn't possibly hand him over? But no matter, he had got him to give in at the end, even though it was a compromise.

"And why is that Dumbledore? Harry Potter is the first person I am showing any form of remote interest in here. Shouldn't you be drooling at this prospect?"

"If I was a heartless man."

"Are you saying you're not? If I seem to remember correctly-"

"That is in the past Tom!"

"Hmm… So you say. But the past never really does leave us, does it?"

Albus Dumbledore sighed, his old age suddenly showing, "Tell you what Tom, I'll make you a deal…"

"You wanted to talk to me, Sir?"

"Ah, yes, Harry, my dear boy, do sit. I have something of the utmost importance to discuss with you."

"What is it, Sir? I'm not in trouble am I?" Harry finished, he was nervous to be honest, he had thought maybe he would be fired – he was rather young after all – he still couldn't believe he had somehow gotten a job at Hogwarts of all places.

"No, No, my boy, on the contrary, I'm giving you a raise," Dumbledore said, starching his chin in an absent minded manner.

"A raise…?" This was the last thing Harry had thought Dumbledore would be talking to him about. He had only started working here last night. It hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours yet!

"Yes, yes, a raise, but only if you agree to take on this extra job I have for you," at Harry's questioning look he continued, "I want you to be Tom Riddle's psychiatrist from now on." Dumbledore held up both his hands as to stop Harry's outburst from manifesting, "I know I told you that I only wanted you to care for him temporarily, but I have done a lot of thinking and I find you are the most suitable for this job."

"I think Tom needs someone close to his age. Someone he can connect with and perhaps trust enough to become friends with."

"Now I understand if you don't want to do this, and I won't hold it against you. To be quite honest, I hope you reject my offer."

"Sorry to disappoint Sir, but I'll do it." Harry couldn't stop the smile stretching across his face nor the determination that lit up his eyes, "You know how much I enjoy a challenge."

Was this why Tom had been so interested in Harry? Could he have, in that short amount of time, seen Harry's determination and stubbornness shine through? Dumbledore wouldn't doubt a genius like Tom Riddle to be able to. He wondered was he not just throwing Harry to the wolf. No, he had trust in Harry, he truly did.

"You are the only one Harry, the only one that I have fate in to work out the mind of Tom Riddle."

Harry didn't know if he should be appalled or impressed.

'A bit of both really,' he thought as he read the summery on Riddle's file, 'this Tom Riddle truly is something isn't he?'

"Full name, Tom Marvolo Riddle," Harry read. "Orphan… Parents unknown… manipulated four people to commit suicide at the age of 11… was admitted into Hogwarts shortly after where he manipulated three more others in his therapy group to strangle themselves to death and one to violently hurt himself in a span of three years… no particular pattern, no preference to gender or age, victims had no particular ties to him…When asked why, Riddle had merely replied that he had been bored. He was then moved to isolation where he continues to…"

Harry gulped, more out of anxiety than fear.

"… seemingly without anyone's notice, make his psychiatrists disappear one by one."

Harry ran his hand through his hair, a nervous habit he had picked up from school, he was excited. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

'If Hermione was with me now, she would say something like my hero senses where tingling,' he mused to himself. She had once told him that watching him work with a patient was like seeing him rescue someone, and he supposed that held some truth, as he did see this as saving someone- even if it was from their own mind.

'Although,' Harry thought, 'I had never worked with someone quite like Tom Riddle before. I wonder if I could do it.'

"Hello again, Mister Potter," Tom Riddle really did have a pleasant voice Harry couldn't help but to think. "Are you always going to not say anything when you come in?" Amusement laced his voice, "You haven't once said hello to me, won't you greet me Mister Potter."

"No! I will not!" Harry really wished Riddle would stop saying his name that way, it sounded way too affectionate.

Tom chuckled, "No you will not? You won't greet me? Or you won't say anything to me?"

Why did Harry suddenly feel like a child? "Hello Mister Riddle, how are you today? And no, I will not always be mute when I come in… I was just momentarily speechless is all," Harry said, trying to look anywhere but at Riddle.

"Sorry, it's my fault. I'm not decent at the moment am I? But you did come in rather quickly after you knocked, I didn't have time to put on a shirt," he teased, voice slightly muffled as he put his white hospital standard shirt over his head. "There, all decent."

"Were you working out?" Harry asked, noticing the weights on the floor.

"Yes, I was. I can't let my body go to waste now can I?" Never once did his eyes seem to leave Harry's.

"I've brought you dinner," Harry said lamely, handing Tom the plate of food.

"So I've noticed," he replied with a sarcastic smile on his face, taking the offered plate and setting it down on the table at the side of his room.

"You never answered my question," Harry said, following with Tom's glass of water, "How was your day?"

"Do you really want to know?" Tom asked, mid-way through a bite, "Well I suppose, you being my psychiatrist now, makes it your job to ask, hmm?" He pointed his fork at Harry, "Surprised? Well if you weren't my psychiatrist now, I doubt the people-" He waved his fork around above him, "-upstairs would've allowed you to stay this long and make conversation with me."

Harry raised his eyebrows as if to say, "Oh really?"

"I'm not daft Mister Potter, I can piece things together."

Harry smiled his eyes twinkling in silent mirth, "No, you're not daft for certain. But really, I'm rather curious, how was your day? Did you do anything?"

Tom seemed to mule over his question as he slowly took a sip of water, "Instead of asking me such mundane questions, shouldn't you be asking me what I've done to my last psychiatrist? Or rather – why have I done it?" Tom stared at him point blank. It was the first time Harry noticed just how cold his eyes really seemed to be. They were hazel, a color usually associated with warmth, but on Tom Riddle they were cold as ice. He was smiling, ever so pleasantly, but his eyes were frosted over and calculating.

"Well…?"

"You'll soon find out that I am not like most psychiatrists, and I don't interrogate the people I work with – you're not a prisoner – why should I?"

"Not a lot of people would agree with what you said."

"Well, it's a good thing I don't really care what other people think now isn't it Mister Riddle?"

"Tom," he casually said, as if commenting on the weather, "I'd rather you call me Tom."

"Then please call me Harry from now on."

Harry rested against the door as soon as he got out of Riddle's room, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. Riddle's eyes had practically been shinning at the end. He couldn't place exactly what emotion was in those hazel eyes, but it definitely wasn't that ice coldness Harry had seen earlier.

'Maybe,' Harry thought heading to the elevator, 'I can crack the notorious Tom Riddle faster than I thought.'

When Harry left, Tom couldn't help the pleased smirk that stretched across his face. It had felt like a silent challenge had gone up between him and Harry.

'And his eyes,' Tom thought, as he remembered the way those green eyes flared with life. 'I'll be the one to break him.'

A/N: I would like to say that Tom and Harry are NOT attracted to each other in a sexual way, yet.
Well, they are, but they don't know it yet. Tom sees Harry as some kind of toy, pet, he hasn't – yet – thought of doing anything sexual to Harry… YET! And Harry sees Tom as someone he needs to save.