Author's note: I told myself I would be putting out weekly updates but my writing time is now severely limited so I have a question for anyone who cares to answer. I have a few trivias too at the bottom of the page. Again, thanks Axelle. If you haven't noticed, I have gone over the past chapter with your suggestions. J.F.C. I was thinking of you when I was writing this. I'll do my second round of proofreading much later. If you spot anything, let me know. Enjoy!
White Innocence
The nightmares continued to occur. Each time, Harry would wake up, sweat clinging to his brow and his heart beating all too fast as if he'd run a marathon.
Yesterday's dream was quite different.
It was at the start of summer that it was decided they should visit the beach. It was a small field trip of sorts. The prospect of swimming brought joy to the otherwise drab state of life they found themselves in. Not to mention it was hot.
Life was certainly interesting with Tom since they've gotten closer during the past few months. He learned to read his moods easier and they spent a great deal trying to get familiar, bonding over simple things and more importantly, things that were unique to them like their gift.
Magic, Harry thought excitedly, was beginning to respond to him in ways he never thought was possible before. It was all thanks to Tom and his extraordinary patience. It just took a bit of imagination, emotion and intent. He wasn't particularly the imaginative sort so this was entirely new for him.
As the days passed by, he was getting wary at the increasing degree of separation between his older self's memories, Henry Price, and the present him. As he practiced his magic, he practiced his occlumency and began to theorize that in a sense, maybe he was separate from Harry Potter.
He had the memories of Harry Potter but try as he might, he couldn't begin to emulate his older self. It was as if, he was in the simplest terms, just a child. Maybe he was a bit more mature, maybe he was more intelligent but he wasn't as wise. He didn't have Harry Potter's wisdom. If he had to say so himself, he was more of Henry Price and yet he carried both of the traumas, thoughts, and feelings.
If he was the fifty-six-year-old war veteran, Harry thought, he would be breezing through his current predicament. He'd have more courage to deal with the current situation. He wouldn't feel afraid of Tom Riddle and think of the boy as a baby in comparison. The age difference was very apparent, but in his head, he'd taken to thinking of Tom as his protector, older brother, best-friend, teacher and someone very dear to him.
If he was Henry Price, he'd be a traumatized wreck which he still was in the sense. He settled for being that awkward blend between the two people, Harry Selwyn.
Accepting that he was reduced to a child in a child's body with a child's thoughts and actions was a blow that he sulked about for quite some time. It was pathetic and he'd rather try not to remember the incident that followed.
Not wanting to leave the bed and forcing Tom to threaten to bodily throw him out of the window just so he could go back to being normal again–
–and he was normal now. He felt better.
They practiced, and Harry was happy to say he had a bit of control over his magic. He was able to move objects if he concentrated enough. It was certainly helpful when the sun was being particularly vengeful and he'd forgotten to close the blinds.
Small mercies, really.
Magic aside, there was only so much they could do in the company of each other. Harry found that there was never a time where Tom completely left him alone, always ever watchful and almost like a "mother" asking him where he went, what he did, and all that. This meant he couldn't sneak out to places he thought he wanted to go to. He couldn't visit Diagon Alley on his own and even if he did, he had trouble lying to Tom despite Tom not being able to read his mind completely.
He knew how to go there and Martha loved him. It was easy enough to put together a plan but he couldn't find a good excuse to do so. He was also hesitant to admit that he was scared. A kid out in the streets of London was one, but entering the magical world without a guardian when he should have no knowledge of it was a big problem. Besides that, he didn't want Tom to find out about the wizarding world through his careless actions.
This invisible leash was what made the prospect of something different become terribly exciting. Things like playing outside the courtyard, visiting the market place for an errand, chatting with potential adoptive parents (although that never ended well), and finally doing his own chores. Harry found himself looking forward to all of them.
He looked forward to having more friends too, but for some reason, some reason he was sure had to do with Tom, they never lasted. Tom was amiable with students in the school they were attending but they were curt with him. He knew they liked him enough but they generally tended to avoid him. He told Tom that he knew it was Tom's fault but with no proof and not wanting to start another messy fight, he chose to make the best of what he had.
But of course he had to find out why, and uncovered that there was a rumor going around that he had a contagious disease, and his vocal cords were damaged, such a traumatized kid who was almost murdered by his own father was too frail and afraid to converse with others, and the list went on. The rumors began to take a life of its own and it's been spread well enough that nobody bothered being friends with him.
It was like the Dursleys spreading lies that he was attending St. Brutus Centre for incurably criminal boys, only this time, people around him began to think he was made of glass and were always shooting him concerned, pitying, and sad looks. At least there was a semblance of truth in it.
If Harry had to say anything, it was simply that… he was bored and he couldn't wait to go back to Hogwarts. When they were told that during the coming weekend they could visit the beach, Harry was happy.
That was an understatement though. He was very happy.
Harry who had warmed up to Sif cautiously told her to "behave yourself," and in under no circumstance was she to "come out and scare any of the adults" despite the lack of people around. Sif told them she would never, and would rather go about the day hunting.
Then, it was off to the sea.
They took the bus and it was certainly refreshing, sitting there and excitedly hugging his bag that held a pair of his extra clothes and a towel. The bus windows were open, and to feel the cool air against his skin was a relief. These days, he was severely missing the use of the cooling charm since the muggles have not made air conditioners common, and their room didn't come equipped with an electric fan. "Are you listening, Harry?"
"Yes… yes, something about… a gift?"
Tom hummed at this, choosing to stare out of the window. "I do hope you like it."
There was a hump and the bus flew off a little, gasps of surprise and screams in the air. Harry was almost jilted out of his seat. Tom steadied him and looked annoyed, going so far as to brush the hair off his forehead, ruining the impeccably combed hair. Harry wanted to say something like 'you don't look so perfect now,' but chose to keep his mouth shut for the very obvious reason that Tom just might kill him when he was already in such a bad mood.
"You would think they would hire better drivers. It's a bus full of children."
Harry tuned out Tom, and tried to listen to Martha who chose to stay in their bus. She was telling the children stories of her childhood. She grew up in the place, and lived through the first war. It was tough times but she said it was looking much better now. She mentioned something about blackouts, fires, accidents, the British navy, and Harry was lost in it.
Someone complained that her childhood was too depressing and that was it.
She listed some ground rules they had to follow. "You don't go anywhere alone. You can tell me or any of the adults if you plan to go somewhere. If I see you, or for that matter, if Mrs. Cole sees you breaking this rule, you will wash all the dishes for a week. We only have half the day, and she will have my hide if any one of you gets into trouble. To those who cannot swim but still plan on it, don't go too far. Food will be served at the usual time and we will ring a bell to call you. We've had our breakfast so after lunch, we only have a few hours before going home."
"But Martha! Martha… I have to go to the loo!" Came the voice of child.
"Oh for the love of– hold it in. We're almost there."
At this, the bus turned into excited murmurs and questions were raised here in there, to which Martha answered as calmly as possible.
"Tom, is it true that we do this every year?"
They were seated at the back with hardly anyone daring to sit next to them. Harry looked up at Tom who looked quite irritable but nevertheless answered his question. "It's not often. From what I can recall, we've only visited once every two or three years. They simply cannot afford it."
"I see. Do you think we can swim?"
"Of course. You heard her."
"Martha said we can go anywhere we want as long as we don't go very far."
Tom nodded, still looking out of the window.
"Tom, what are you thinking of?"
Tom turned away from the window and took Harry's hand from underneath his bag. Harry felt the sudden rush of calm that he still couldn't understand.
"You."
Harry made a face at this and said, "I'm serious. You look so bored but you have this look… like you're up to something."
Tom merely played with his fingers, and said, "you'll find out soon."
They got off, and it was a short trek through the grassy sand and into the sandy beach where there was already a small gathering of people who came in early.
The white crashed against the creamy shores, and the blue green of the sea stretched on for miles and miles. Harry couldn't help the stupid grin on his face as he spread out his hands. "It's the beach!"
Harry ran down, his bag bouncing with him.
Tom trailed after him.
They met up with the rest of the others who proceeded to listen to the droll instructions of Mrs. Cole before being shooed off to do whatever they wanted. Umbrellas were set up and the older children helped carry stuff. Mrs. Cole looked a bit tired and took to sitting down on the chair while fanning herself.
There were quite a few who dared to go into the water. Harry noticed that most of them chose to keep their clothes on and wondered if it was common to be so covered. Some boys completely took off their tops. The women who wore bathing suits mostly had their navels covered. Older men took to wearing shorts then shirts or sandos on top.
He found it quite weird. Maybe they didn't want to be sunburnt.
Harry took off his shoes and placed them on the neat pile next to Tom's and then, paused to consider if he should take off his long sleeves. He didn't have anything underneath. He was playing with the hem as he stood there pensive and trying to decide on what to do when Tom began unbuttoning it for him.
Harry took a couple of steps back.
"Take it off. You'll get it wet."
Harry shook his head adamantly. "No."
"You were so excited to swim, Harry. Come on."
"Not really–"
"Liar."
Harry hurriedly buttoned up, not wanting anyone else to see his scars. He almost forgot to think about how his fear of showing his skin was going to affect his desire to swim.
It was at that moment that Martha appeared, looking particularly cheerful and wearing a rather colorful dress. She had a smile on her face and was enjoying the rather scenic view.
"Is he alright?" She asked. Harry took in the sight of her, and remarked stupidly in his head that Martha was actually a woman. She hardly ever tried to pretty up and he guessed it was one of these days. She had forgone the usual bun and let her hair down, even wearing a pretty bow to compliment her dotted dress.
Tom did a complete 180 and projected a picture of innocence, "We're alright Martha. Shouldn't you be doing something else?"
The older woman nodded off, "You're quite right Tom. Do watch out for Harry. Let me know when you need something."
She started walking towards the opposite direction. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to squash the feeling of wanting to go after her, and tell her that Tom was trying to undress him.
Tom had the audacity to smirk and said in a patronizing tone, "I simply don't understand why you care so much about what other people think of you. What is showing a little skin? I've seen it all before... but fine, keep it. You can take it off later."
Tom offered his hand.
"I'm going to show you a very special spot. You'll be able to swim there without anyone bothering us."
"Really?"
"Yes, so shall we?"
Harry was sure that in some part of his distant memory, he should know what it was, where this was. He grabbed the offered hand.
"Okay."
The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was pleasant to Harry. He always loved nature. He liked how it made him relax. He drank it up, the cotton in the sky, the birds that flew here and there. He relished the feel of the sand on his bare feet as they walked hand in hand.
"Sometimes, I want to leave this city," Tom began.
Harry knew the sentiment and stared up ahead. "What would you do? Where would you go?"
"Somewhere far. You will come with me." Tom said as if lost in thought.
Harry laughed, "You can't decide for me you know."
Tom squeezed his hand and tugged, walking just a bit faster.
"Hey Tom, is there anything you like doing more than anything else in the world?"
Tom tilted his head a little, looking at him, "it's not something I've thought of, but perhaps it's doing magic."
Harry nodded at this, and kicked the water off his feet. The waves crashed on it again, bubbly water covering his toes. They've gone quite far now, and they were still walking.
"What about you, Harry?"
"I think, it's flying."
"How can you like something that you've never done before?"
Harry flashed Tom a grin. "I thought of it in my head. I dream of it sometimes. We can make things move without touching them so maybe we can do it on ourselves. I rather like the thought of flying. Just imagine, looking down from the sky and how little everything else would seem." Harry made a motion with his hands, swooping across the air.
"You think flying is possible with our gift?"
Harry nodded, grinning at the memories flashing in his head. "We don't know the limits of what we can do… but you're able to do all sorts of things." Harry couldn't help the tone of admiration in his voice. Tom always looked pleased whenever he praised him.
The boy began to smile. "I'm sure you're capable of it too. You're just not patient enough."
"Right."
Then Harry paused, to admire the shells and stones, a particular red hue caught his eye, and he ran towards it and grabbed it, showing it to Tom. "It's pretty isn't it?"
Tom blinked as Harry dropped it on his hand. "Why are you giving it to me?"
"I just felt like it. It suits you. Later, can we go pick up more of them?"
Tom seemed impatient and said, "Yes, Harry."
The boy began moving again, and Harry caught up to him. Harry, while used to the boy's rather dismissive tone, was getting rather irked, "We've been walking for a long time. Where are we going?"
"Somewhere private. It's a pretty place… just like your eyes."
"-but… Martha said we shouldn't go too far and from here I can't even see her."
"She won't find out."
"Tom!"
"We're almost there."
They walked for a couple more minutes and reached a bend. As they walked, there were less and less people. Harry was starting to feel tired by the time they stopped. What faced them was a jagged rocky outcrop of darkness that stared out into the horizon. It was a sharp a contrast against the white beach.
It was tall, even from the distance.
It was very familiar, this place.
The tide wasn't as high, and the waves weren't as angry so it looked slightly different, more serene than anything.
But it was where he fed the most horrifying concoction to Professor Dumbledore and where thousands of dead bodies attempted to drown him to death.
"Harry?"
There was a hand on his forehead.
"You've gone pale. Do you want to rest?"
Harry took in the rocky cliffs. What in the name of Merlin was Tom thinking? Why didn't he remember it soon enough? Of course this was Tom's special spot.
Harry steeled himself and said, "I'm fine," but as he said that, Harry pulled his hand away, feeling very frightened.
The boy looked at him very carefully. Harry looked away, but a hand tilted his chin. Harry kept his eyes shut.
"Are you sure?"
The hand weaved itself through his hair, and Harry felt his legs weaken. The earlier fear was being replaced with comfort as his thoughts turned to mush. His eyes opened and Tom looked very pleased.
"Yes."
It was a whisper.
"Then let's go."
Tom's eyes were dilated and very carefully said, "Just. Follow. Me."
Harry felt it in his head, and every thought, every action was stripped away except for the command. He couldn't fight it, not when it felt so good. Like a warm hug… it filled him with happiness.
They continued walking towards the rocky cliff where the sand gave way to rock, and soon, they entered a big gaping opening. The wind moaned as it passed through the cave, and Harry felt the chill as the air moved out. He pressed against the warmer body beside him.
"It's alright, nothing's going to hurt you here."
Harry tried to snap out of it, but could only follow Tom. There was a voice in his head, telling to follow. Obey. It was like a drum beat in his head. An incessant voice that chased out all the fear.
He was light as a feather.
The light from the entrance slowly receded and what little that remained came from the crevices overhead. It spilled on the floor creating patterns in jagged shapes.
"I came across this place several years ago when I was lost and looking for a place to hide. The snakes whisper things and lead me to places. I have never truly explored the depths but I know there is a lake up ahead."
They climbed and descended into a familiar passage way where the stones had not been touched by magic and was open for passage. "The water is warm, and if we stick close to the bank, it's shallow enough that it's safe to swim."
Only Tom's voice carried on, his hand the only warmth Harry knew of.
It became darker, and darker until it was almost pitch black. There was a soft green glow from the abyss. He saw nothing, and couldn't see Tom, but felt him there.
"You're doing very good, Harry. Why don't you light it up?"
Harry could feel himself nodding sluggishly.
Light flew off Harry's hand and illuminated the cavernous lake. Crystals lit up in varying shades of green. They were everywhere, glittering in the darkness.
Harry found his protests caught in his throat when Tom unbuttoned his long sleeve. His sluggish mind could only process the word 'safe' even as a part of him was saying 'no' as Tom took off his top. The next were his shorts. It was discarded near the bank and was joined by the other boy's clothing.
Tom began leading him towards the water. He was already knee deep when Harry felt it all come back to him.
"How do you like my gift, Harry?"
It was truly breathtaking in an almost magical sort of way. The crystals that surrounded them, the serenity of the cave. It was peaceful and picturesque. The air was cool enough, the water was warm and comforting.
It was corrupted by the memory of the lake of fire. He saw it like a broken replay, the corpses that rose up from it –all but trying to drag them down, trying to tear them limb to limb, and his desperation at hitting them with curses from the top of his head that couldn't do a thing because of their sheer number, thinking he was about to die, then fire, roaring fire– and Albus Dumbledore's death. No amount of pretty could shut it out and Harry tried to chase the bile off his throat.
Harry felt like he couldn't breathe. It was like falling down and not reaching the ground and he told himself it would pass.
Tom wrapped his arms around him, and Harry laid his chin on the other boy's shoulder, sagging.
"Harry."
Tom combed a hand through his hair and slowly, as Harry tried to concentrate on the feel of those fingers, he found that he could breathe. 'Breathe.'
"You're going to be okay…"
The panic slowly dispersed, allowing reason to return.
Coming down from it, Harry could see Tom's face so very close to him, his eyes reflecting the green of the cave.
"What are you afraid of?"
Harry heard it in his head.
Harry struggled, pushing away the other boy. "You! You… made me… you…"
Tom Riddle had his face down, his hair plastered on the sides of his face and he couldn't see his eyes.
Harry waded farther away, but slipped and found himself plunging into the dark depths.
Then he was spluttering for air. He struggled for a moment, remembering that he should kick out with his feet and let himself float.
A hand grabbed his and pulled him back to safety.
"Idiot."
Harry let himself be manhandled and found his back against the uneven patches of rock and crystal. He coughed out, his head hurting from the water he inhaled through his nostrils.
Tom hovered over him, looking upset. Droplets were falling on his face and Harry had to blink when some of them landed on his eye.
"You don't like it?"
Harry stopped looking at Tom and looked at the vast cavern which was lit up dimly with the light that he cast. When his light dimmed, Tom shot off another spark in the air, and it was even more brilliant in its intensity. The light lit up the entire place, with the walls and the water turning into pearly luminescence, the exact color of his eyes.
Harry thought it was pretty, beautiful in an eerie way.
But there was a heavy feeling in his chest, wondering if Tom had any inkling of what he just did. It was easy to think that Tom meant it just like how he consciously did everything with his powers but he wasn't perfect. But what if he meant it?
Harry didn't know what to do with the knowledge. He thought he'd be annoyed for a very long time.
"It's… pretty. It's very nice of you, Tom… but you did something very horrible to me."
"What are you talking about? What did I do, Harry? Tell me so I can fix it."
Harry closed his eyes, then he sat up. He felt frustrated, and motioned for Tom to take a seat, trying to smile despite the unease of where he was in.
"Your words, they have power. When you want something, have you ever wondered why people just tend to give in?"
Tom was silent, but he had the other boy's complete attention. He was showing recognition.
"Since you're not completely aware of it, I think you can't control it. Don't get mad. I'm just saying what I think is happening."
Tom eyed him. "How do I know you're not lying to me?"
Harry bit his lip, trying very carefully to consider his decision. His mind made, he said, "You just have to trust me. I'll tell you what it feels like if it helps but I can't do the same to you because I don't know how you even do it. So maybe… you can test it out on me?"
Tom lit up, as if a very tasty treat had been offered to him.
"You'll give me the chance… to practice this… horrible thing on you?"
Harry nodded very slowly, "I trust you… it makes sense to use me… otherwise, I think you'd be using the other children to practice. Tom… so please?"
Tom considered the proposal.
"Harry–" Tom said his name, very slowly, as if he was savoring it on his tongue.
"I trust you."
He was saying it more to himself.
His head was going to break open. It hurt. He knew he was terribly exhausted after volunteering so stupidly.
The rest of the day went by in a blur after Tom dragged him back to the others. It wasn't that Tom did terrible things to him but Tom just didn't know when to stop.
At first, it was simple requests, like flexing his fingers. Then, it became more complex, like performing certain actions. Swimming with Tom was one. They learned that it was easier to make him do things he subconsciously wanted.
"It felt good. Your words float in my head… and it's as if it's all I can hear. I have to- obey you. And I feel like I'm so light… your magic makes it so easy."
The intent behind was something Harry knew, but Tom still had to grasp it. Asking Harry to stay underwater was something Harry didn't want, and something Tom didn't particularly want as well.
So by then they understood that it also doesn't work if Tom didn't mean it. From there on, practicing it was easier for Tom but harder on Harry. Tom tested it when he made Harry float in the water, far, far… until he found himself in the middle of the lake and all it would take was for the panic to set in once more then he would definitely drown and Tom wouldn't be able to save him, but it didn't.
Everything was still. Quiet. Not unlike the voice, the echoing whisper… That's it. Drift. Stay Calm. You're alright.
The crystals were shining like a hundred thousand stars and he wanted to reach out to them but his hands and feet were spread apart, lazily, in the still green of the water. Eventually, he returned to the edge of the lake. After getting his bearings, he was just too horrified of what happened and accepted the offered hug.
Then Tom asked him why he was so afraid of the lake. He had to fight tooth and nail not to answer.
Despite the tiring day, his head wasn't hurting just because of the multiple almost imperio like effects of Tom's magic.
It hurt in the same way when he was having nightmares of Voldemort. It was vivid and it was far too substantial to be a nightmare.
No. His nightmare was in fact, not a dream, but a memory. He was sure of it.
In the dream, it wasn't him but two familiar children who went to the cave with Tom. It was Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop. Looking at the boy who was sleeping in the opposite bed, he thought oh, this angelic looking child, Tom who told him he'll care for him, and protect him, was completely different.
He looked at the stretch of colorful pebbles and shells by their window. Tom did that for him when he couldn't do anything but rest right after eating lunch. He was left with Martha underneath the shade of the umbrella while she sung a lullaby.
Tom would come to them with the pebbles and the shells, and Harry would pick out the ones he liked. Martha seemed to approve of it, remarking that "it was good to see Tom warming up to someone else his age."
But he was lying to himself. Harry knew that Tom was capable of committing similar atrocities since they were essentially the same person.
Harry fought hard to dispel the traces of cruelty that Tom had on his face as he forced the children to do his bidding. There was no other word for it but torture and they broke. Both of them. He could feel it rushing in his blood, the pleasure of seeing them writhe in pain, drowning, and forced to survive just because he thought it would be a waste to kill his two new puppets.
Harry brought his hand to his mouth at the implication of the memory.
The nightmares rushing back. The station–
"I have to go back, Tom."
"Then, take me with you?"
"I don't know if it's possible."
"It is."
"How… do you know that, Tom?"
Blood Red Eyes
" But you let me in. You came back for me. I believe I have every right to be here."
'Are you alive… inside of me?'
Author's note: Trivias. Back then people were horribly conservative and it was considered indecent to be showing your navels if you were female. Guys could, in a way but they generally wore swimwear that covered their torso. Did you know that slippers haven't been popular until after World War 2? There were some weird looking shoe designs that people wore back then, but I wouldn't go into that. Oh, and Tom's room in the movie was in room 27, but I think it's easier to just leave it up to creative license since the book didn't mention any of this (maybe). For all intents and purposes, their room is on the fourth floor of the orphanage.
Now. I'm not sure if anyone read my note at the start of the chapter but I was wondering if I should update every week but have shorter chapters, or update every other week (whenever possible) with the same amount of word count (like 3700-5000 words).
Anyway. I hope you guys like this! Reviews keep me happy and inspired so please let me know your thoughts. I like both the good and bad ones!
Review Replies–
Guest – Here's some more!
Rae48 – Hogwarts might not come in like… 3-4 chapters.
