Disclaimer: I do not own.
A/N:
FINALLY! A chapter that consists of 1000+ words!
Excuse my grammar..and typos..and mistakes... orz
Harry had just woken up when a maid came in and set a bed breakfast table in front of him. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't in the mood to eat after waking up from a horrible nightmare.
"Sir? M'Lord wishes to see you after breakfast."
He almost dropped his fork when the servant spoke.
"I'm sorry-"
"It's alright," Harry cut her off before she could even start. He watched the young maiden as she covered her face with her long red hair. She harshly bit her lip and stared at her feet.
"Did he say anything else?"
"No, sir…"
Absentmindedly, he rose up from his bed and motioned his servant to clean up his leftovers. Without putting on some decent clothes, he left the room just wearing pajamas underneath a black sleeping robe.
Harry walked lazily, before slowly arriving in front of a large wooden door at the farthest corner of the hall.
He could clearly remember the first time he arrived at the manor.
He had wandered aimlessly, not even knowing what he was searching for.
Not a familiar face in those huge paintings that hung on mahogany walls.
Sunlight barely reached the hall because of heavily-curtained windows.
The air was stagnant, heavy and suffocating.
Everything was foreign. He didn't belong in this prison, no matter how it was prettily dressed up.
Then things had started to change, and Harry knew he had no choice but to stay.
He had walked among familiar corridors, recognizing every scratch and crack in its walls.
He grew acquainted to the portraits on large canvases, aware of the remarkable and horrid stories behind every beautiful face.
Finally, there came a time when he finally stopped gasping and holding his breath.
He had come to the conclusion that he had to endure… to breathe although he was inhaling poison.
Because, if he had to live in this prison, he might as well make the most out of it.
Harry stood still in front of the wooden door, pondering whether to knock or to just stride in. Unfortunately, he didn't have the drive to be rude today.
He knocked at the door, waiting for Tom to let him in despite knowing that it was unlocked.
"Come in", He heard Tom's voice from the other side.
Harry pushed the door open and saw the man sitting in his desk.
It was the lounging area where Tom and Harry usually spent their time together... separately. Most of the time, Tom would be spotted in front of his desk doing lots of paperwork. Harry, on the other hand, can be found idling around, reading books while lying on the couch in front of the fireplace.
Harry went inside the room and positioned himself in his usual spot, eyeing Tom who's currently engrossed in reading the newspaper.
The front page had Tom's face in it, just a bit different. Harry had always wondered why the man even made an effort to change his appearance in public. Whenever he saw him in the newspapers, his hair would be raven-black and his eyes, a darker shade of brown. He wore extravagant coats over white frilly blouses. But setting aside the fact that he was a constant subject of attention and admiration of the people, there was something strange about "Public Tom". Harry noticed the way Tom carried himself in front of an audience. Indeed, he looked like a young and wealthy nobleman, but something was off.
The front page had Tom's "Public Face"
That wasn't the Tom he knew. That Tom looked more scholarly and soft-spoken. He stole a glance at the man's face for a second and suddenly came to the conclusion why Tom even bothered maintaining that kind of image. Things would probably be different if Harry were to meet the man before him for the first time, under different circumstances.
Don't judge a book by its cover, this saying can be perfectly associated with Tom Riddle. With his pale skin, creamy brown hair and lean stature, it seems like he came out from a painting... one you'll absolutely regret admiring.
His fair skin and light hair creates a very good contrast with the strong color of blood. A chiseled jaw, combined with constantly creased eyebrows and pursed lips, is not something anyone would want to see everyday. And his eyes... were a color of crimson that makes people wonder if he could see as deep into their foul souls.
Definitely more pleasant in public…
Harry was practically watching him for quite some time, bashing the man in his mind when Tom broke the silence and cleared his throat loudly.
"We could do this all day, but a visitor's coming."
"And why are you telling me this?"
Harry never went out of his room whenever there were guests. Of course, that wasn't his personal choice considering that he was always locked in. Tom's always been careful not to expose Harry's existence to anyone, stating that it could risk his reputation. He would come across as a weakness… and that was the last thing Tom was ready to deal with at the moment.
Naturally, Harry would very much want that to happen. But he had greater things in mind… he just had to wait for the right opportunity to arrive.
The man spoke, not bothering to look up. "I want you to meet him."
Tom watched the young man's reaction intently behind the newspaper. He saw how Harry's eyebrows creased, how his mouth slightly fell open… and how he immediately masked his surprise effortlessly.
Harry was slightly getting better at this.
If Tom wasn't observant enough, he could have missed it.
"Who is he? Finally trying to turn yourself in?" Harry remarked casually.
At this, Tom brought down the newspaper and grinned darkly at the young man.
"Not even close."
"Then what?" Harry was starting to grow impatient.
"Lucius Malfoy: An influential nobleman, and a convenient ally."
"Your ally, perhaps. What has this got to do with me?"
"You just have to vouch for his son's safety."
"But I don't even know his son!"
Tom sighed, "Oh, right… Go to the basement, he's probably still sleeping there."
"You're keeping a child in the basement… and you want me to tell his father that he is perfectly fine? Are you insane?" Harry let out a mocking laugh.
"Of course he's not perfectly fine. Although, I'm not sure that he'd still be, if Malfoy refuses to comply."
"What do I get in return, then?"
Tom stood up and sat next to Harry. He placed a hand on the young man's shoulder and lightly squeezed it.
"This may be the closest chance you'll get into having a family, Harry."
Harry slapped the hand away and glared at him.
"Didn't you just murder them?!" Harry clenched his fists so hard it could have drawn blood.
"Not all of them." Tom said softly, in contrary to those manipulating crimson eyes.
Harry wasn't in the mood for Tom's mind games. He raised his arm and just when he was about punch the bastard in the face, his trembling hand was seized.
Tom's hand firmly gripped Harry's and brought his face close to whisper into the boy's ear.
"Think about it, Harry. Don't you want this more than anything else? A family?"
"Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe the thing I want the most is to see you dead?"
"That could come later." Tom flashed a menacing grin at Harry who was practically speechless.
Harry headed for the basement, still pondering about his conversation with Tom.
Tom's lying… How come this "relative" never showed up? Where the hell was he when his parents died and he was left alone?
After all this time, Harry just couldn't believe it. And partly, he didn't want to give in to Tom's request. He was conflicted as to let the man have his way.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw a young blonde boy pinned to the wall. This was actually worse than what he had imagined. The boy's arms and legs were heavily bruised, loosely chained to the wall.
Harry came closer to inspect the lad's face, when the boy unexpectedly opened his eyes.
"Who are you? A new servant?" The blonde sneered at him.
"Is that any way to talk to your savior?"
The boy gawked at him anxiously. "…you're letting me go?"
"No. But I could ask your kidnapper for a bit more leniency."
"No need, let my father see how bad I look. That way- "
"Your father's coming. Bu he has to sacrifice a great deal just to get you back."
The blonde looked confused. "If it's money you want…"
Harry cut him off. "What if money isn't what your kidnapper wants?"
"What do you mean?" He asked nervously, looking as though he didn't want to here what's coming.
"Your father's going to have to switch places with you. Your freedom for his, young Malfoy."
He looked at Harry as realization hit him. He bit his lip a he slumped back to the wall.
"Draco." The blonde boy hissed.
Harry barely heard him. "What?"
"The name's Draco… Draco Malfoy."
"Harry Potter. A pleasure to meet you." He knelt beside him and extended a hand towards the other, who didn't return the gesture.
"I don't intend to stay here and make friends."
"I could help you. If that's what you want…" Harry offered, feigning innocence.
Draco paused for a moment. After a few seconds, he looked up and nodded.
"Then I'm indebted to you, Harry Potter."
Harry placed a hand on the man's shoulder and turned to leave the basement. Just when he closed the door, pursed lips twisted into a wide smirk.
He had so many plans in store for his newly-found friend.
Lucius Malfoy rushed inside the room to see two men idly playing chess. A servant quickly caught up to him, breathless.
"Lord Malfoy-"
"Where is my son?" Lucius gave them an accusing glare.
Lucius Malfoy most certainly lived up to his name, he had an air of nobility. Although at the moment, he appeared to be quite shaken, taken that his son missing.
Tom stood up and came close to the man, settling his crimson eyes into grey ones.
"Did I allow you to enter the room, Lucius Malfoy?"
Lucius stepped back a little as Tom crushed his spirit with his threatening glare.
Harry decided to speak up, seeing how Lucius was frozen in fear.
"Draco is doing well, Sir Malfoy." Tom arched an eyebrow at Harry, seeing how he finally decided to cooperate with his plan.
Lucius made a sigh of relief as Tom returned to his seat and stared at the chess board.
"How about a deal, Malfoy?"
Lucius nervously stared at Tom. "What do you want?"
"Be my servant. If you swear your loyalty to me, I'll give you back your son… and possibly a bit of wealth from the Potter's heir." He offered, looking at Harry's direction.
There was a long pause.
The two men resumed their chess game, Tom, obviously on the winning side. Harry seemed irritated that the man wasn't fully paying attention to the game but still manages to have the upper hand.
A few knocks came and a servant peaked at the door, "My Lord, I'm sorry for the intrusion but if I may ask about today's dinner…"
Tom beckoned her to come forward. It was the same maid that served Harry this morning.
"Seeing how we have such a wonderful guest… you could head to the butchery and ask them for the finest quality of meat they could lay their hands on. On second thought, I think we have a pure blood down in the basement."
The man flinched and Harry could see him shaking with rage.
Lucius Malfoy is a proud man. Harry once told Tom that he didn't think the man would sacrifice so much for his son. He didn't expect Tom's reply to this. He casually dissolved the conversation saying, "Harry, how poorly you regard family."
And somehow, the atmosphere felt heavy. Harry wanted to remind him that it was his fault, but he swallowed back his words. The man didn't look a bit bothered… but his aura undoubtedly shifted into a deadly one. That was the first time Harry wanted to ask about Tom's family… his past. Unfortunately, he didn't want to come across as someone who cared.
"My Lord?" The servant looked confused.
Harry laughed, if he hadn't hated Tom, he could very much imagine them being friends. Although it's not difficult to think that they'd probably still end up killing each other.
"I wouldn't want that though. He's all skin and bones already." Harry mentioned, twisting a chess piece in between his fingers.
Lucius gripped at his sides. "My Lord…", he muttered.
Tom looked up from the board and crossed his arms over his chest.
"What was that, Malfoy?" His crimson eyes widened with anticipation as the corners of his lips quirked up.
"My Lord." Lucius replied reluctantly, slightly bowing his head.
Tom grinned at Harry as he held his queen and declared checkmate.
"First things first. I want you to let the wolf out of its cage. Let it hunt." Tom's red eyes glinted nastily.
Meanwhile, Tom Riddle Sr. stared behind the rusty bars of Azkaban questioning a certain criminal regarding the whereabouts of the only Potter heir. Little did he know that a few days after his visit, he'd return and find nothing but an empty prison cell.
