Well, here is another chapter. I seem to have lost one beta, but thanks still to the wonderful Star_Faerie! Thanks, also, to everyone who reviewed. I'm having a hell of a lot of fun with New Divide.
Words: B5,528
Chapter 7
December 31st 1942.
The snow was falling thickly outside. Anathema watched with hooded eyes as the flakes landed all around him. He lay spread eagle; arms and legs stretched out on a bed of pure white, smiling softly to himself, as snow melted on his face. Hogwarts was always beautiful at Yule-time, and usually abandoned too. Only a handful of Professors and students had remained behind, and as per usual Anathema was one of them.
"You'll catch cold," Tom warned him. He was leaning with his back against a tree that bordered the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He was mostly sheltered from the falling snow by the tree, and a couple of wards protected him completely. He had sent a warming charm at Ana a minute ago, but the boy had only laughed and started making snow angels.
"I'll get a Pepper-Up Potion." The green eyed boy smiled widely, flapping his arms in the snow. Ana carefully stood up, wary of smudging the snow angel out of existence, and he turned wide eyes onto the indentation and grinned. "Look what I did!"
"What you have accomplished, Ana, is nothing more than a worthless waste of time that will disappear under fresh snowfall or our feet, and you have likely gotten yourself ill for no reason." Tom chided him, arms folded across his chest. His dark blue robe made him look almost as pale as the snow, but his blue eyes were almost black in contrast. Black hair hung into his eyes, and Tom flicked it back with an annoyed scowl as his lover merely laughed at the lecture.
"And you're just boring. Come have some fun, Tom!" Anathema patted the snow on his clothes, melting it and leaving dark, wet patches on his silver shirt. His robe was thrown over a branch beside Tom's head, and his school trousers were completely soaked through. Ana giggled lightly, as Tom's drying charm tickled his skin. "Thanks."
"You are welcome, lover."
"Happy birthday, Tom," Anathema whispered as he made his way towards his boyfriend. "You know how I gave you an amazing gift this morning?"
Tom gave a predatory grin, his teeth bared, as he reached forward and dragged Anathema into his arms. "Ah yes," he said, licking his lips. "Your virginity, what a delightful gift that was."
Ana's face reddened horribly, and green eyes widened in embarrassment. "TOM!" He shrieked. "I bought you a gift as well, you know," he said, eyes narrowed now.
"Oh of course, how could I have forgotten the very expensive gift you gave me? Perhaps I was distracted by the birthday sex?" The words sounded serious enough, but Anathema had learned to tell when Tom was only teasing him.
With narrowed eyes, the younger boy slapped Tom's arm and said, "Well since I gave you two amazing gifts, I think it's only fair you repay me for one of them!" Tom's eyebrows furrowed. Knowing his perverse mind, Ana figured Tom was trying to work out how many Galleons Anathema's virginity had been worth. Ana slapped his arm again, annoyed. "Not like that!" He hissed. "I meant that you should give me a gift, not remunerate me."
"Oh, and what gift would you like, beloved?" One pale hand was cupping Ana's chin, the other clenched tightly around the boy's waist. Tom's lips brushed lightly along his lover's own, and he smiled softly as Ana leaned forward to steal his lips. "Impatient," he chided as they pulled apart.
"Very." Anathema agreed. His arms wrapped around Tom's neck and he tugged his lover to him and their mouths met, heavy and hurried and wet. When they broke for air again Ana let one hand stroke lightly down the side of Tom's face, tracing his features with his fingers as Tom watched him avidly. "I want you to teach me to become an animagus. Some of the older Gryffindors have mastered the art, apparently. Two of them are even competing to become Dumbledore's Transfiguration apprentice next year, assuming the old man doesn't change his mind or ship them off onto another Master, or something. Anyway, I've always wanted to learn, but I've never managed to find out much about the art. I bet you know everything there is to know about Animagi!"
Tom had gone tense when Anathema had first mentioned the 'A' word. The hand on Ana's waist was clenching and unclenching, nails digging into the child's skin through his shirt. Tom let his other hand drop away from his lover's face, afraid of cutting the boy perhaps.
"What's the matter?" A soft voice asked after minutes of Tom's silence.
Tom remained silent for a moment longer. He took a few steps away from Anathema and at his sides his hands clenched and unclenched, his knuckles turning bone white. "As much as it galls me to admit, I do… not know much about Animagi. I have not learnt that particular skill yet."
Tom's jaw was clenched, angry with himself for his perceived failure. As Anathema began to chuckle, Tom's whole body loosened, relaxing slightly and he found himself with Ana pressed to his chest, smiling. "Is that all?"
Tom did not respond.
"Well we can learn together. That'll be more fun than you knowing everything and me looking like an abysmal failure in comparison, right?"
"I would be honoured to share the experience with you," Tom told him eventually. He spoke softly, eyes fixed on Ana's smiling mouth, and he slowly let his hands tail up Anathema's sides until they were wrapped around his neck. "I doubt you'll be abysmal," he said, chuckling, "though I will surpass you, no question."
Anathema scowled, and shoved Tom's shoulder lightly. But he continued to smile. "What do you think you'll be?" He didn't pause to let Tom answer: instead, he rolled his eyes and said, "A snake, I bet. Well I disagree. I think you'll be some sort of big-cat."
"Prideful and vicious?" Tom teased, before pressing a light kiss to Anathema's throat.
"Dangerous, beautiful, and all mine." Anathema answered. Their mouths met again, and Ana melted into the kiss allowing Tom to shove him backwards until he was trapped between the trunk of a tree and Tom's hard body.
"Mine!" Tom corrected with a snarl, his fingers knotting into Anathema's dark hair.
"All yours," Ana panted between kisses, submitting with pleasure.
XXX
June 1945.
The Hogwarts graduation ceremony was an extraordinary affair. No cost was spared in its celebration of growth, maturity and independence. The graduating students wandered around, still wearing their maroon robes, pointed little hats still perched on their heads; except, for the Slytherins (they actually had dignity). Tom had no family to celebrate with. He stood alone, watching the parents of his year mates congratulate each other for having 'fine offspring', 'decent heirs', and 'future productive members of society', all the while ignoring said children. Tom leant back against the wall, half wishing Anathema had been there, and half wanting to lock himself into his bedroom for a few more minutes before reality hit.
He was leaving Hogwarts.
He was leaving home.
He had turned down the position in the Ministry that had been offered to him, and it had been a terrible sacrifice. But he would be more likely, and more readily able, to find items to use as a Horcrux, if he were working in a Dark Arts supply store. It was a fact, one he did not like or enjoy, but one that would eventually help him realize his goals. In a few years, when his Horcruxes were safe and he had more experience, he would come home and apply for a job as a Professor. Dumbledore would never turn him away, he wouldn't dare.
Anathema of course, would come with him. Despite whatever occupation Ana would soon decide he wanted, they would live together in Hogwarts, and Ana could Floo to work every day, from the private fireplace that existed in a teacher's living quarters. They would be together. They would be a family. One day, Tom would come home again.
"Ah Mr. Riddle," a voice said from behind him.
Tom, who had begun walking away from the celebration, stopped and turned back. "Professor Dumbledore." Tom greeted, a cold but polite smile on his face. "I was just on my way to see if the sixth years were finished with their classes for the day."
"Ah yes, yes," Dumbledore murmured. "Anathema was rather disappointed at having to miss your graduation ceremony, but his education comes first. Your valedictorian speech was ingenious, my boy, very impassioned. It brought a tear to my eye. I was going to offer a Pensieve copy to Anathema, of course, unless you wanted the honour?"
Tom clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together loudly, as he fought back the slew of insults that jumped to the forefront of his mind. He hated how Dumbledore always addressed Ana by his first name. Every other student, even most of the Gryffindors, were 'Mr' or 'Miss', but not Ana. Never Ana. Tom was half convinced Dumbledore did it solely to aggravate him, but he remembered that even before Tom was on speaking terms with his lover, Anathema and Dumbledore had been rather close. If Tom hadn't known for definite, he would say the two were related. Dumbledore treated Anathema as a son, or a nephew. Still, that didn't meant Tom had to like it.
"Yes," he said at last, hands held behind his back so that Dumbledore couldn't see him squeezing them tightly. "Mr. Black will doubtlessly wish to view my memory of the event." That wasn't true: Anathema was as fond of Dumbledore, as Dumbledore was of him, but Tom felt as if he had won a competition of some sort when the twinkle in Albus' eyes dimmed a little.
"Ah. Well, I'll let you continue then, Mr. Riddle." Albus offered him a small smile, which Tom ignored. "Enjoy your future career." There was a smirk on Dumbledore's lips now, and as Tom met his bright blue eyes the teenager flinched.
Score one for Albus Dumbledore.
Tom waited until Dumbledore was out of sight before he began making his way towards the dungeons. He met Anathema outside of his Head boy dormitory. The younger Wizard was pacing frantically, and froze completely when he noticed Tom watching his with amused eyes.
"How did it go? You failed right? You messed up the speech so badly that Professor Dumbledore said you needed to repeat the year, right? Right!" The words blurred together as Ana spoke rapidly. It sounded more like a loud rushing of air, but Tom had heard it over and over for the last few months, and he knew exactly what Anathema was afraid of hearing.
"On the contrary, you are now looking at a past student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have finally joined ranks with the infinite alumni of this institute. Don't worry, lover," Tom said as Anathema slumped forward dejectedly, "it won't be much longer until you graduate too."
"I can't believe you are leaving me."
Tom's hand stroked lightly down one of Anathema's cheeks, wiping away the scant few tears that escaped from his tightly closed eyes. "I will never leave you. Now come," he said, opening the doorway to his living space and guiding the younger man inside, "onto pleasanter topics."
"The Horcruxes!" Ana grinned. "I don't see why you still refuse to use Gryffindor's Sword. It's inside of the building after all! All you have to do is go and get it. I could even help you, or do it for you if you're too scared?" The teasing smile on his lips slipped away as Tom took a threatening step forward.
"Scared?" Riddle hissed, eyes narrowed. "I fear nothing, and no one." He shoved Anathema backwards, and the boy gasped as he fell onto the sofa that was just behind him. Tom waited until he was comfortable before he crawled over Ana, pinning him to the chair. "You need to be punished for your sedition."
Anathema tilted his chin up, opening his mouth just barely as Tom leant down to meet his lips. "I like your punishments," he whispered, a soft pink blush on his cheeks.
"Oh I know you do, naughty boy." Tom smirked widely, his hand palming the bulge in Anathema's trousers. Tom continued to talk as he unbuttoned Ana's trousers and began to stroke his length. He talked about his graduation, his future job, the job he really wanted in the future, his Horcruxes, Anathema's Horcruxes; Anathema listened, but didn't reply, too busy panting and gasping, his back arched and his arms locked around Tom's neck as he was pleasured.
On the ring finger of Anathema's left hand was Tom's ring. The small black stone was scratched and cracked, but Ana had been able to make out the pattern of the Deathly Hallows. Tom had known it was important, and now that it was a Horcrux it was doubly so, and Tom knew that his lover wanted the ring. Anathema didn't know if Tom knew it was the resurrection stone, and he didn't ask either. The Hallows would be his, but he didn't put it past Tom to find them and 'gift' Ana with them. all the while smugly smiling while Anathema fumed. As helpful as Tom believed he would be, Ana would find the Hallows himself. He would complete the Quest alone.
"The Sword of Gryffindor could be used for your Horcrux?" Tom suggested after he had cleaned them off. They lay side by side on the floor of Tom's shared common room, uncaring if the Head girl might walk in. Both of their trousers were open, and Tom's robe was crumpled on the ground beneath his head, and Ana was panting heavily, but neither cared. This was possibly their last moments alone together: next year Anathema would be off to Hogwarts alone, and Tom didn't get much opportunity to see Ana at Grimmauld Place during the summers.
"I don't want a Horcrux, Tom," he said softly. He fingered the ring on his ring finger. It wasn't a proposal, because Tom would have needed Arcturus' permission for that. But Tom had wanted a way to claim Anathema without giving him the Dark Mark; the ring would do for now. Anathema smiled softly, turning his head so he could press a kiss to Tom's neck. "I'm going to master the Hallows, remember?" Just two more to go, he thought, still smiling.
XXX
July 31st 1945.
It was Anathema's birthday.
Orion was the only one to notice that Anathema wasn't in the house. He was the youngest member of this branch of the Black family, tall for his age with shaggy dark hair and fathomless grey-blue eyes, with a chiselled jaw and sharp nose; he was the picture of aristocracy.1 But that was easily overlooked, as he was never seen without a gleeful smile on his mouth. If Orion could have gotten away with it, he would probably have bounced everywhere he went, he was constantly that happy. Arcturus wouldn't have liked him doing that though.
Orion searched through his brother's room and library first, but couldn't find Ana. He was the only member of the family who actually liked Anathema, but that was ok because he was the only family member that Anathema liked in return. The others still called him a 'Mudblood' or 'half-blood' in private, and a 'disgrace' and 'pathetic' in public.
No one, but the members of the Black family, actually knew about the circumstances of Anathema's birth. Most just thought he was treated so badly because he was practically a Squib (which was ridiculous, because he was attaining the highest practical scores in his year), or because he was obviously Arcturus' bastard son by another woman. It was believed she was a Witch, now disgraced and in hiding (or dead by Arcturus' hand), but no one once considered his mother might have been Muggle. Despite the fact that she was a rape victim of one of Grindelwald's raids, and births such as Anathema's had been happening more, and more regularly as the war reached its crescendo, Muggles were still Muggles.
Orion didn't care how Anathema had been conceived. Orion had no love for Muggles, but despite Anathema's mother's place in the scheme of things, she was unimportant. It was Ana who mattered. He was still half a Pureblood, and he was Orion's brother.
The small box in Orion's hands jingled slightly, as the fifteen year old reached for the handle of Anathema's other favourite hideaway. The dungeon was cold and dusty, and Orion sneezed as he made his way down the stairs. There was someone moaning, some unfortunate Muggle probably, brought home by one of his father's friends to help drag on the 'cause'2. Orion tried to ignore him.
"Ana?" He called softly, watching where he was putting his feet. No one answered him. "I have a present for you. Are you here?" The moaned grew a little louder, but his brother still didn't answer.
Just to be on the safe side, Orion followed the groaning, determined to make sure it wasn't Anathema in that cell despite how unlikely it was. Father had stopped the beatings when Anathema began Hogwarts. The camaraderie that existed between Ana and the defeater of Grindelwald, might have been enough to push his father over the edge though.
It wasn't his brother crouched over in the cell. In fact, the battered man wasn't even a Muggle. He looked rather a lot like an old friend of his father's, and Orion flinched as he realized it was the Wizard who had turned traitor to the 'cause' a few months back.
"Help me," he whispered through broken teeth.
"I'm looking for my brother," was all Orion could think to say. "He isn't here." With wide eyes and trembling hands, Orion backed away from the cell. He ran from the dungeons, dropping the present, but not wanting to stop and go back for it.
The Wizard watched him go, shuffling closer to the bars and stretching out his arm to snatch the abandoned gift.
"To Anathema, my favourite brother, happy birthday!" The Wizard read straight from the card, and scoffed. Inside the box was a rather expensive looking invisibility cloak. Orion had known that Anathema was searching for one, but fortunately this wasn't the one Ana wanted. The Wizard drew it around his shoulders and over his head, and disappeared from view. He hoped he'd die from starvation, before Arcturus remembered him and came looking.
Anathema wasn't home. When he came back Orion wouldn't mention the gift, instead he'd hand over a bag of Galleons, and admit that he couldn't find anything that Ana might have liked. He didn't ask where Anathema had been.
XXX
Earlier.
Tom had managed to find himself a pokey little flat just outside of magical London. With the defeat of Grindelwald and the death of Hitler, most of the English civilians were leaving the countryside and heading back into the towns and cities that had remained half empty for so long. Tom felt it was about time to leave the orphanage. One day, he'd visit them, and… thank them for their kind hospitality and care of him. But until that day, he was content with the two-room flat he had found. At the moment it was all he could afford. When he started working, he would save up and be reasonable with his expenditure, but the first thing he would do though was repay Anathema the deposit price. After that, he would save completely, putting all of his money away so he could treat himself and his lover. Then he would apply at Hogwarts for a teaching position, and he would have no need of somewhere else to live.
Arcturus would die soon, sooner if Tom had a say in it, and Anathema was bound to inherit a home for them to live in. Together.
"Stop wool gathering, Tom," Ana giggled. "You'll get wrinkles."
"Merlin forbid," he drawled in response. "You mightn't love me if I loose my handsome good looks!"
"Who ever said you was handsome?" Ana asked with a bright smile. "I certainly don't think so!"
"Oh?" Tom murmured, raising an eyebrow. "I seem to remember you saying something different when you arrived this morning."
"Yes well," Ana murmured, blushing. "That was said under duress. That thing you do with your tongue is illegal, you know?"
Tom chuckled, sprawled out across the small couch that took up half his second room. The couch was positioned in front of a small coffee table, and the other half of the room was actually a small kitchenette. The first room was smaller, but it had an en suite and a bed and wardrobe. It was spartan, but suitable for the time being.
Anathema placed a plate of sandwiches on the coffee table and dropped himself down onto Tom's legs. The elder boy gave a grunt, but didn't say anything negative, so Ana wiggled to get comfortable and then helped himself to the food.
"I've finished my transformation, you know? I bet you perfected it weeks ago, but thank you for waiting to show me until after I was done too."
Tom reached up to brush back Anathema's fringe. "I would not torment you so obviously, lover. It would be cruel and unnecessary to rub your abysmal performance in your face. Now come," he added before Ana could defend himself, "show me."
"You first?" The other boy whispered shyly.
Tom gave a nod. Anathema stood up, letting Tom slide off the couch and crouch on the floor. The change was so smooth and effortless, it left Ana staring in awe. He sat heavily on the sofa, wide eyed as he reached out hesitantly to pet the panther's head.3 Tom flicked out his long pink tongue, aiming for Ana's fingers, and the Wizard giggled again. "You're beautiful." Tom gave a growl. "Sorry, sorry," Anathema amended, "you're handsome! I think I'll name you Than."
Tom changed back without warning. Anathema continued to stroke his face for a moment, before his brain caught up with his eyes and he let his hand drop to the side. Tom caught it as it fell and squeezed it lightly. "Why Than?"
"It means Death." Tom narrowed his eyes, and Anathema smiled widely. "You don't have to be afraid of death any longer, Lord Voldemort. I'm here, with you, always. Will you name me?"
He changed then, without waiting for a reply. He shrunk in on himself, folding in half almost, as his hands and feet shifted, and mutated. Paws rested on the ground and black fur sprouted all along Anathema's skin. His head twisted and grew, a muzzle nudged at Tom's hand, and the elder Wizard slowly reached out to touch the Grim. The large dog-like creature watched him curiously, wondering what Tom thought of his Animagus form.
"I will name you Apep. He was an Egyptian serpent-god, powerful and dangerous. The enemy of the sun, the Light." Anathema tilted his head to one side, why a snake? he seemed to ask and Tom smirked. Pale fingers ran over Ana's back, pausing at certain points to press down on patches that were definitely not fur. "You have scales all along your spine. Black fur and navy scales, almost indistinguishable, and your eyes- you have my eyes." Navy eyes blinked up at him from the Grim's head and Tom grinned widely. It was yet another claim he had on the boy: Anathema's green eyes had changed in the transformation, changing to the colour of Riddle's own.
Ana changed back, blinking green eyes at Tom, as he straightened his clothes. "My eyes changed colours?"
"Yesss," Tom drew out the word, almost hissing in pleasure. "They did."
"I bet you're loving this." Anathema said with a snort. He threw himself back onto the couch and picked up his half-eaten sandwich. "Smug, possessive bastard."
"You wouldn't have me any other way." Tom murmured as he sat close, beside his lover. Anathema flashed him a soft smile, and didn't argue. They cuddled closer, Tom with a protective arm around his lover, as Anathema ate. "Do you have to go home tonight?"
"It's not home. Home is with you, Tom. You know that. But yes, Orion will have noticed I'm missing. I hope he doesn't ask anyone where I've gone though, because that's the only way my family," he spat out the word, "will notice I'm gone."
"I'm sure he has more sense than to stir trouble in such a manner. This time next year, Anathema, I promise we will be together all of the time."
"Good," Ana whispered, pressing his face against Tom's chest. "I'm going to miss you until then."
"You'll enjoy your last year at Hogwarts." Tom promised. "Even if I have to put you under the Imperious." Anathema had dozed off, and so did not rise to the bait. Tom let him sleep for an hour and then woke him. They both remained silent as Anathema left the flat and prepared to apparate to Grimmauld Place.
"I love you," Ana whispered, and left. Tom didn't have a chance to respond, but he remained standing on the doorstep long after Anathema had left wondering if he actually was capable of reciprocating.
XXX
October 12th 1939.
He was talking to someone, but a third person kept answering before he could reply. It was very, very annoying. He turned to glare at them, and fortunately they suddenly remembered somewhere else they had to be.
"That wasn't very nice, Tom," Lucretia Black chided lightly.
Tom knew she didn't mean it as anything other than meaningless words, said to carry the conversation forward. She wouldn't dare to chastise him seriously, no one would. Tom Riddle may have only been a second year, and a 'Mudblood orphan' for most of the last year at Hogwarts, but people had since learnt he was not to be trifled with. Those he had deigned to punish the year before had spread the word. Tom was to be respected and feared, and potentially avoided where possible. People like Tom didn't exist often, but he was here now, and people were already comparing him to Grindelwald. Tom doubted Grindelwald's childhood was anything like his own, nor were there personalities likely similar if they had been raised in completely different circumstances. But if it kept the older years compliant and respectful, Tom would allow them to continue believing in their ridiculous fantasies.
"What were you saying?" Tom murmured, flicking his eyes to the left when Lucretia continued to stare at him in silence.
"I was just saying how some of the older students had asked me to invite you to a party they are throwing, in the common room tomorrow night. It should be fun. We could introduce you to some of the Ravenclaws who will be attending, and the Slytherins who have yet to have the pleasure of your company."
Tom doubted his company was all that pleasurable, and a grin like a shark's fixed itself onto his face. Before he could comment on the absurd comment that was obviously Black's attempt at sucking up, something struck him in the chest.
Tom reached out on instinct, and caught the other boy by the shoulders. A small, dark haired child took several steps back. His pale face was marred by an angry scowl and his green eyes narrowed as they ran the length of Tom Riddle, and looked away wanting. "Watch where you're going," he hissed and made to move around Tom.
Before he could go anywhere, Lucretia reached out and grabbed his wrist. She shook the child, hard enough for the book he had been holding to fall from his hands. Tom bent down to retrieve it, and when he went to hand it back to its owner (strangely having no desire to keep the obviously cherished possession for himself, like he did when his dorm mates annoyed him), he found Lucretia and the strange boy engaged in an argument. Their whispered hisses and insults had drawn the attention of the dungeon's residents, and a handful of Tom's 'friends' watched rabidly for Tom's reaction.
"Apologize to Tom now. Now, Anathema!" Lucretia spat, still shaking the smaller child. The 3rd year girl looked ready to foam at the mouth when Anathema continued to remain silent. She shoved him towards Tom, who reached out to catch the boy, dropping the book in the process. Tom didn't want him hurt, for some reason. Lucretia had almost shoved him to the ground, but Tom's hands on his waist steadied him. "Sorry!" Lucretia whispered, "I'm sorry!"
"I'm not," Anathema said with another scowl. He wrenched himself out of Tom's grip, and snatched his book from where it had fallen to the ground again. He pushed his way past the crowd, ignoring their excited and frightened murmurings, and he didn't once look back at Tom Riddle who watched him in confusion, frustration, and curiosity.
"Who is he?" He asked, his voice soft and light, but Lucretia took a step back from the actual feeling in his words. He was genuinely interested in knowing, though Tom didn't understand why.
"That's my brother," the 3rd year said, "Anathema Mallory Black. Pathetic disgrace that he is," she said, grinning, and obviously waiting for Tom to agree with her. She stopped smiling, as Tom remained silent.
Behind them, the crowd of Tom's future Death Eaters stirred and murmured louder. One man stepped forward and grabbed Tom's arm. "We'll take care of the brat if you'd like, Tom?" He asked, leering after Anathema's retreated form in a way that made Tom's stomach churn.
His hand struck the elder Wizard across the face with a sharp crack. He fell to the stone floor, grunting from the force of the impact, and looked up at Tom with horrified eyes.
"You will do no such thing. Anathema is mine. Do you all understand? He belongs to me." Everyone agreed instantly, assuming that Tom wanted to be the one to punish Ana for his disrespect. For a moment, Tom entertained that idea, but then pushed it out of his mind. That wasn't what he wanted, he knew that much. He wanted Anathema… not in pain. He wanted something else, but what?
He continued to make his way through the corridor, ignoring the group of students who remained behind him, frozen in shock. Green eyes flashed behind his closed eyelids, as they fluttered shut momentarily. Tom continued walking, his eyes closed to savour the memory of meeting Anathema for the first time, and he trusted that everyone (Gryffindors included) would move out of his way.
Voldemort's eyes snapped open. His sheets were tangled around his bare legs, and a light sheen of sweat covered his chest and arms. He took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes closed, and snapping them open again as Anathema's face assaulted his vision.
He had thought he had dealt with this; thought he had removed those feelings and thoughts and memories, purged them from his mind and hidden them away within his Horcruxes.
But, with the destruction of his two first Horcruxes, changes had been taking place within him. These dreams of his past had become more frequent, almost nightly occurrences. Mostly it was just like watching a film; there were no thoughts or emotions involved on his part. The Tom Riddle of his memories felt everything as he had once felt, but for Lord Voldemort is was surreal, emotionless. He ran his hand over his head, and small patches of hair gave way under his long, pale fingers. Voldemort frowned. Changes had been happening to his body as well.
With the destruction of the Diary years ago he had felt a surge in power and magic, enough to change him to more than 'less-than-a-ghost', as he had once described himself. He was still a spirit, but now he could possess more than animals and weak-minded fools like Quirrell. Voldemort knew Anath- his ring was destroyed. His spies at Hogwarts had told him as much last year, and with its destruction hair had begun to grow on his arms and legs and his head. Very, very slowly, unnaturally slowly, but it was happening. He was changing, because two of his Horcruxes had been destroyed years apart. Briefly, he wondered what kind of changes would occur if several were to be destroyed at once, but then he pushed the thought away. Only Anathema had known where his Horcruxes were hidden. No one else would find them, certainly not Potter without Dumbledore's help!
Voldemort had hoped that with Dumbledore dead he would be able to retrieve his ring. But Dumbledore had not taken it to the grave, and Voldemort had more important things to search for than Anathema's resurrection stone.
He stood from the bed, and began to dress. It was pre-dawn but Voldemort knew he would not be getting any more sleep. It had always been hard to sleep restfully without Ana beside him. "I have other things to do," he told himself, angrily subduing thoughts of his dead, damned Anathema.
He had an Elder Wand to master.
XXX
1- Orion is practically identical to how Sirius looks in canon. They are father and son, and Pureblood genes tend to be inherited rather closely. It also explains why Harry was so eager to go live with a complete stranger: he reminded Anathema of his younger brother.
2 – According to HP Lex, Tom is already 19 when Grindelwald is defeated. But it's listed on the Timeline as defeat before Tom graduates…? But then it says it coincides with the end of WW2, which technically didn't end till August, though Hitler died on April 30th. So I'm going with supporters are still dragging on the War, even though Grindelwald is in Nurmengard Prison. Deal?
3 – Animal and name meanings are in the first chapter, along with the summary, disclaimer, etc. Though Than is actually pronounced Th-ahn.
Ok. It has been known to happen, and it's happening to me. But I have lost all motivation to write. I don't even want to read! My inbox is full of alerts that have yet to be seen to! I'm going to kick my ass into gear this week, I will (I have to re-read Butterfly before I can update it anyway, and I've run out of pre-written chapters for New Divide, and I owe excentrykmuse a gift fic on the 9th July, and BOOMrobotdog birthday fics from March! FML).
