Turn Back 53

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23rd June 2013: This chapter has been edited.
8th January 2014: Another edit.

Chapter 10
Words: 6 846

Nott went from looking sympathetic to looking stern. "You must try," he said in a tone that left no room for argument.

"I-I…can't." Harry felt broken and tired. His mind was filled with memories of the sensations. As he thought about it he felt compelled to go looking for them again. He was thinking like a drug addict running after the next dope. He knew he was being stupid. He also knew that Riddle had been doing something nasty, and yet he couldn't make himself care about that. He just wanted to feel it again.

"This can't be the same as with the Dark Arts," Nott said stubbornly, "this isn't self inflicted, is it?"

"No, I don't think so," Harry mumbled.

"Do you even know what's causing it?"

"No. I have an idea. But no, I don't know for sure."

"Then you need to find out what's going on. If you don't want this, Potter then-"

"Harry."

"What?"

"You were to call me Harry."

Nott shook his head.

"Please, Joseph."

Nott went on as if Harry hadn't interrupted. "If you don't want this, you better find the way to fix it. You'll only have to be around for nine months. At the end of June we'll all go our separate ways and you'll never have to see any of us ever again, if you don't want to. So find a way to fight. This isn't something you've chosen for yourself. You can find out what is going on and see if you can escape. Don't say that it is impossible until you've tried."
Harry brought his hands up to his head and wracked them thought his hair. "You make it sound so easy."

Joseph huffed. "And you're making it out to be more complicated than it is. That's what many do when they fail with magic too. They think the spell is supposed to be hard, and they convince themselves that they couldn't possibly perform it, and as a result they can't. A sort of placebo effect one might say. "

Harry smiled a little. When Nott spoke like that, he truly resembled Hermione. 'Though isn't placebo muggle science?' he thought in question.

"Hold on a moment, the placebo effect?"

"What about it?"

"Isn't that a muggle thing?"

Nott stared at him as if he had said that the sky was red or that water wasn't wet. "No. It's a medical term. It was thought up by the Greek healer Spiros Zabat over two hundred years ago. A patient of his was a hypochondriac and so Zabat gave him a drought made simply of water and sugar which he spelled so that it became thicker in consistence as well as to make it look green. The patience drank it every morning for a week and was afterwards convinced that he had been cured of his imagined illness. Zabat made a study on the phenomenon and found out that the power of belief is very important when it comes to regaining your health. He named it placebo as it is Latin for 'I will please'.

Harry was muffling his snickers behind his hand. 'Yeah, exactly like Hermione,' he thought with fondness and a pang of regret about the loss of his old friend, which he put down.

Nott noticed that Harry was laughing at him and hit him playfully in the arm. "Why would you think that it was Muggle?"

"Eh, I just thought I had heard about it in connection to them."

"As far as I know it hasn't been leaked, maybe I'm wrong." Nott shrugged. "By the way, why were you laughing?"

"You just remind me of my friend."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, she was a walking encyclopaedia too."

"Sounds like I might have liked her." Nott smiled a little.

"I think so too." Harry returned the smile and then it faltered. "She was muggleborns."

"Oh…" Nott looked very uncomfortable at that.

"I think you got off track," Harry hurried to say to defuse the tension.

"Yeah…" Nott cleared his throat. "My point is that you shouldn't give up until you know for sure that there is no use."

"Ehum…"

"What?"

"It's just that I'm not sure that I want to stay away…"

"Harry," Nott said warningly.

"I'm stupid, I know."

"Yes you are. I should whack some sense into you, but I feel that it's best that I don't hit you in the head, you appear to be low in brain-cells already, so the few you have are precious."

"Why do you keep insulting me?"

"Because that seems to be the only thing that makes you react. You can't seriously want this."

"No…" Harry dragged in a breath. "No, I don't"

"Then find out what is going on."

"You're right."

"Of course I am."

"So modest."

"Modesty is for Hufflepuffs."

"Ah, wouldn't want to be like one of those."

"Nope."

They sat in silence for a bit, Harry falling back to thinking about how it had felt before he blacked out.

It had been amazing; warm and tingly, inside and out in every part of him, better than snogging… 'No! Don't think about that. Think of Snape in a dress. Yes, Snape in a dress… God, that is hideous.'

"Will you try to fight it?" Harry asked after awhile.

"Hmm?"

"Will you continue to try and fight your Dark Arts addiction? Will you try to escape from… whatever Riddle is doing?"

"I should. I've been trying this summer. I'm close to giving up. When you stop you go though withdrawals, just as you would with any drug. It's a painful process, I know for I've been there. I gave up after two days. I couldn't stand it, I felt like I was losing my mind to the pain."

"Wow…"

"Yeah… I'm too weak to do it." Nott looked upset, as he remembered the pain and also admonished himself.

"That I feel like that at all is because I'm weak. I know about Dark Arts addiction. I've looked it up extensively and it says the same everywhere. Not all practisers become addicted, only those who aren't strong enough to handle it."

"That sounds awful," Harry said sympathetically.

"I don't need you to feel sorry for me. I needed you to listen!" He sighed. "I see now that I didn't have all the facts, and I apologize for snapping at you."

"No harm done. You didn't know," Harry mumbled, brushing off the apology.

Nott was more than willing to do the same. "No, I didn't. Thanks for letting me know. It makes things so much easier, when you have the facts, again proving my point."

Harry smiled half-heartedly. "Sure. Don't tell anyone though, okay?"

"Eh, right. Of course I won't tell." Nott avoided meeting Harry's gaze. He fingered a lose thread at the end of his pyjama sleeve, tugging at it until it snapped loose. He flipped it away and rolled his shoulders a bit. "Anyway, Dark Magic isn't like the other kinds. It's not forgiving and it does not allow doubters or weaklings perform it. It's as close to sentient as you come with magic. You're new about the whole thing aren't you?"

"Eh… What gave me away?"

Nott smirked half-heartedly. "The first clue was your name; Potter. You're family is light. You're not labelled as blood-traitors, but when you think of people performing the Dark Arts you don't think of the Potters. It might have been differently a few hundred years ago, but Daniel Potter is a light supporter and so was his father if I remember correctly."

"Ah…"

"Now would you please promise to not go looking for us tomorrow? If you're affected by Riddle's magic you should want to stay away."

"Yeah…" Now it was Harry who avoided eye contact. He should promise, for he shouldn't go looking for Riddle, especially not if the Head-Boy was going to perform magic. He shouldn't want to feel anything like that again. At the same time he was reluctant to make such a promise.

The rush had been indescribable. The feeling of magic. The sensation of becoming whole. The thrill as every nerve in his body tingled with energy. The energy coursing thought him, leaving pleasure and elevation in its wake. Was it so strange if he wanted to feel that again?

"Promise me," Nott said sternly, understanding where Harry's thoughts were going as his eyes glazed over.

Harry returned to the present and nodded.

"Harry," Nott's tone was filled with warning again.

"Alright. I promise I won't come looking for you. Not tomorrow anyway," he added in a lower voice.

Nott sighed, resignedly. "I suppose that will have to do."

"It better, because that's all you'll be getting."

"And here I thought you would be an improvement over the others."

"Hey! You're not comparing me with Lestrange, are you?"

"What if I am?"

"Jerk."

"Idiot." The insults had no bite in them.

"You really should listen to me."

"Yeah. Yeah, I should."

"I am starting to believe that you are just as impossible as Fergus, though. And that's not a good thing. Well, if you aren't going to put on another show, I'm going back to bed."

"Hey, wait!"

"What?"

"Would you be willing to find out what Riddle did? I think he preformed some Dark Magic."

Nott looked reluctant. Harry could understand that, if the boy didn't want to have anything to do with Riddle's cause anymore he wouldn't' want to seek his company so readily. He wasn't going to try and convince Nott in any case. This was a favour he'd be obliged if the other did, but he couldn't pressure him into doing it. That wouldn't' be right.

Nott seemed to debate with himself. "I suppose I could do that," he said, shoulders slumping. "Just wait here." Nott got up from the floor and went over to a bed across the room and opened a trunk. The pure-blooded wizard pulled out a robe and a pair of slippers which he put on with deliberately slow motions, stalling and thinking things through a second time. Once the stash of the robe was tied tightly around his waist there was nothing else he could do to put it off. "I'll go ask then," he muttered and started walking towards the door.

"Joseph," Harry said, making the other Slytherin turn back around. "Thank you."

=(#)=

Joseph walked back through the corridor to the Common Room, feeling a bit hesitant still. He hadn't really wanted to go and confront this, he would much rather have gone to bed. There just was something about Harry and he couldn't ignore this request even if he wanted to.

He tried to imagine what Voldemort might have done to get that reaction out of Potter. The whole deal with Potter was weird. He had never heard anything about something like that.

'A spontaneous connection that gives one part pleasure when the other performs magic? Weird. It's not a soul bond, but it's strangely similar to one. It doesn't fit. I wonder if any of the books might say anything about it. I just might have to look it up.'

He entered a Common Room that was mostly empty. He saw no student below sixth year.

'Well, if there was any doubt about our Lord performing something Dark it has disappeared now.'

By one of the fireplaces he found his friends.

"Hey, Joe," Raphael said quietly. "Did you leave Potter all alone?"

"Yeah," Joseph muttered in response. He glanced over at Tom who appeared to be lost in thought, although he had recognized his arrival with a small nod. "What happened?" he asked in a low voice.

"What ever do you mean?" Fergus said with forced cheerfulness.

Antonin rolled his eyes, and Emanuel smirked.

"It was Flint," Orlando answered; bypassing Fergus lame try to pretend like nothing.

"What did she do?"

"Nothing unusual," Orlando Mulciber continued. "She made a scene when Voldemort made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with her.

"She insulted him," Emanuel added, "something about his mother."

Joseph winced. He could imagine what happened next.

"It was great," Antonin said with a savage smile. "She was writhing on the floor screaming her head off. It was just what that bitch deserved."

"You scare me sometimes, Antonin," Raphael muttered. "You really do."

"What? Shouldn't you be afraid of Riddle rather than me?"

"I'm afraid of both of you."

"Eh…"

"What spell did he use on her?" Joseph said, interfering before the bickering could turn into a proper argument.

"It was the Crusiatus," Raphael answered in a whisper.

"He used the Crusiatus curse in the Common Room?"

"He did."

=(#)=

Tom was listening to them. Nott seemed upset to hear what he had done. 'Might as well have that talk now.' Tom rose to his feet which drew the attention of the six wizards.

"Joseph, I wish to speak with you."

Nott rose to his feet. "My Lord," he said, no trace of hesitation, but his eyes were straying, betraying his unease.

"Come."

Tom led him to the exit and beyond. They walked down the corridor to an unused classroom, their footsteps echoing against the stone walls. Tom entered and waited for Nott to walk past him, and then he put up a few basic wards; a silencing ward and a ward that would notify him if anyone drew near.

Nott had schooled his face into a blank mask. "What did you wish to speak of, my Lord?"

"About you."

"Me?"

"Yes. What has been bothering you? You're heart is not in this."

"I… It's nothing, My Lord."

"Do not lie to me," the words came out like a hiss.

Nott swallowed audibly, and Tom had to smirk; it was such a cliché action.

"I apologize," Nott murmured, his head lowered in apparent shame.

"I'll let it slide this time."

"Thank you. You are most kind, my Lord."

"Indeed." Tom sat down on one of the benches and gazed intently at Nott. "You are experiencing Dark Arts addiction, are you not?"

"H-how?" The blank mask slipped off and Nott looked scared and embarrassed.

"Oh, I know. You can't hide anything from me, Joseph. And you shouldn't aim to do so. I will not let you go though this on your own. I take care of my friends. I can help you."

"What?"

"I'm certain that you have looked up everything about the addiction."

"Yes."

"There are a few things that not many books would tell you."

Nott's mortification was starting to turn into hope, a light appearing in his blue eyes.

"You can overcome the addiction. You just need to master the spells."

"That sounds too easy…" Nott muttered.

"Do you question me?"

"No!" he said forcefully. "No, of curse not. It would never occur to me to question you."

Tom snorted softly. It was a lie, but he would not call up on that now, it was unimportant and his purpose behind speaking to Nott was not to alienate him, but to bring him back into the fold. "Be with that as it may. I'll be giving you private lessons until this passes. I'll teach you how to deal with the addiction and how to prevent it from returning."

"I-I… Thank you."

"Now when that is taken care off, I would like you to tell me about, Potter."

"Potter?"

"Yes. You seem to be the one who has gotten to know him best."

"Well, I suppose…"

Tom stopped listening actively here and used legilimency instead. He did it wordlessly and wandlessly. It was easy as Nott looked him straight in the eyes. The memories he wanted to see was also at the front of the boy's mind as he had made Nott think about Potter.

Tom watched a memory from the dormitory. Nott was yelling at Potter, letting the green-eyed wizard know that he was addicted to the Dark Arts.

'Stupid, Nott. Very stupid.'

The memory ended and a new one appeared in its place.

Nott was getting up from bed as he heard a sound… moaning?

By one of the beds stood Potter, his eyes were glazed over and he was shuddering. Nott called out for him, and Potter showed no sign at having heard. The dark haired wizard moaned again. It was a sound that Tom found… never mind that.

Potter was trying to move, each step appeared to be a struggle. In the memory a shudder went through Potter's body and then he collapsed on the floor. Nott hurried over and tried to revive the unconscious boy. The spell didn't work. Nott pulled Potter up against his chest, saying his name on repeat. The same coil that Tom had felt in his stomach when the Polish girl said Potter's first name appeared again.

'What is that?' he thought angrily. He didn't recognize the feeling, all he knew was that he hadn't liked when that girl said Potter's first name and neither did he like when Nott held Potter like that.

The memory flickered and when it became sharp again Potter had opened his eyes. They talked and Potter ended up confessing what he believed to be the cause behind the incident.

"It was Riddle," Potter muttered. "His magic. I can sense it in a way I had never thought possible. You are right about him being dangerous." Potter gave a humourless little laugh. "He could take me down without being in the same room."

Tom's gaze never left the memory-Potter. He didn't listen to what Nott said next. 'Potter can sense my magic? And it had him reacting like that? This must have been when I cursed Flint.'

"For some reason I don't yet know of Riddle's magic affects me in the same way you described Dark Arts addiction."

Tom drew out from Nott's mind. He had gotten what ne needed. The blue eyed boy hadn't noticed anything, but he had stopped talking.

"Thank you, Joseph. That will be all. We'll have our first private lesson after the meeting tomorrow."

"Oh, of course, my Lord."

"You may go."

"Good night, my Lord."

Tom didn't notice when Nott left the classroom. His mind was reeling with the possibilities of this.

'There was a lot more to this connection then I initially thought, though I haven't been able to make an educated guess yet. I will have to get down to the Chamber soon. The books in Salazar's study should have the answers. Then there is the question about how best I can use this. I should wait until I know more. There might be some part of this that isn't to my advantage and it would be foolish to not find out that before I approach Potter.

'He can obviously sense my magic and when I use it. Form what he said to Nott, he could also sense that I used it with ill intent. That could be dangerous. He could out me. I'll have to make him swear to secrecy. I can't have him blabbing to the teachers. I'll win his loyalty somehow. It'll take some more observations, but I can afford to wait for a bit. He has already screwed up by telling Nott. He isn't cautious and that will cost him. There is no way he'll come out this winning. Things always go my way in the end.'

=(#)=

Harry had begun to pace, unable to stay still. If he sat he would just feel the remains of the pleasant tingles and he didn't want to be tempted again. He was waiting anxiously for Joseph's return.

His, dare he think it? friend, had been gone for quite some time. Harry wondered why it would take so long time to find out what Riddle had done. It couldn't possibly be that complicated. Something must have gone wrong. A complication of one kind or another must have arisen.

"I'm back." Harry stopped mid-step and looked up at Nott.

A new light had appeared in his blue eyes, a smile was on his lips.

"What did you find out?"

"Eh, right." Joseph said a bit absentmindedly. "It was the Crusiatus Curse," he then added as if he was talking about the weather or what he'd had for lunch, not about someone using dark magic which inflicted the worst imaginable pain, or rather more than what was imaginable unless you've been under it.

Harry gaped. "Are you kidding me? He used one of the Unforgivable curses?"

"Yeah," Nott was pulling off his robe and kicked off his slippers.

"He preformed the torture curse on someone in the Common Room?" Harry asked, waiting for a clarification.

"Yeah."

"And he can get away with that? You are okay with that?"

"No one will speak up against him; they'd be crazy to do that."

"Using one of the Unforgivables gives you a one way ticket to Azkaban!"

"Yes, I know."

"And you don't care?"

Nott sighed. "Yes I care, but I've learned to ignore it. I can't do anything against it."

"Yes, you can!"

"Well, I won't. Good night, Harry."

Before Harry had any time to react Nott had drawn the curtains around his bed shut and put up a silencing ward. He was left there, gaping at the green drapes.

'What the fuck was that? What happened to him while he was away? I bet Riddle has something to do with it. He must have said something. Nott looked… happy. What would have made him happy? He was upset about his addiction… Urgh! I just don't get it!'

Harry went back to bed, collapsing on the crumpled covers.

'Putting up a silencing ward is probably a good idea,' he thought idly, before he rubbed at his scar. It was tingling again. And he thought he could capture some emotions through it. Excitement?

'Maybe I'm just imagining it. Though that would be too good to be true, wouldn't it? I'm a right mess, aren't I? I can't seem to learn.' He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. I promised myself that I wouldn't trust too easily again and to the first friendly person I meet I go "Oh, want to know my secrets? Well then, they are..." At least Nott… eh, Joseph seems to be a decent guy. Though I don't get why he would admit to being addicted to the Dark Arts. What would he gain by doing that? And what the heck made him so happy? Something's up.'

He chuckled weakly. 'Well, I didn't tell him I'm from the future, that's progress. And well, after what just happened, it's not so strange if I want to confide in someone. What the hell was that about, anyway? It was way more intensive then anything that happened on the train. It was more than when we touched… What is going on with this connection?'

He crawled into a ball on the bed. He took his wand from the table and used it to close the curtains around the bed. He used a silencing ward just as Nott had and added a sticking charm for good measure.
'It's about time I remembered that the people surrounding me are Slytherins. Anyone can put up a friendly front, hugging you close so that they can reach to stab you in the back. Let's hope that isn't Joseph's plan. I'll have to be careful. It would be so easy to trust him.'

Harry rolled over on his back, so that he no longer lay upon his duvet and he proceeded to drag the covers up to his chin, relaxing into the warmth that still lingered in the fabric from when he had tried to sleep before.

'What do I know about this pull, this connection, or rather about stopping it? Occlumency seemed to help a little. I should try to use that I suppose. It's a start and the only thing I can do at the moment.'

As Harry lay in his bed he did his best to try and clear his mind. He pushed away every conscious thought just as he ought to have done during his fifth year. He was a bit better at it now, still it was hard. There was always some thought rising up to the surface.

If occlumency was supposed to be able to keep Voldemort out of his head back when he was fifteen, the same might apply when he was seventeen and tried to block the connection to Riddle's magic. It was worth a try. He wasn't going to fail again. Last time it had ended up getting Sirius killed, who knew what would happen if he failed again.

After many hours he fell asleep, never knowing if the other seventh years had entered the dorm or not.

=(#)=

It was dark. Harry thought that it was strange waking up to darkness. He felt restless and needed to get up, if only for a bit.

He tried to brush the velvet drapes out of the way, but they were stuck. He then remembered the spell he had put up. He grabbed his wand from under the pillow where he had put it before he had tried to empty his mind, before going to sleep.

He reversed the charm and pushed the hangings to the side. Harry rose from his bed, remembering to do so, on the side that wasn't facing the window. He got to his feet, feeling the soft rug against his soles, not in that creepy oversensitive way he had last night, just… normal. That at least was a relief.

The first day at Hogwarts had been more intense than he could ever have dreamed. Though he supposed he should have expected it.

Nothing would ever be quiet and simple when you were dealing with Voldemort. The man had possessed the ability to be direct, though it was more likely that he would be hissing, whispering lies and seducing you with illusions, leaving you unable to tell left from right.

Harry walked around the bed and looked out the window. He could see green water on the other side of the glass, weak sunrays filtering through the liquid and illuminating slowly swaying sea grass. A few, small, sliver shimmering fishes swam by. The shoal drifting back and forth with irregular movements, before it disappeared form view. To look at it all made him feel calm.

The calmness was only an illusion. He looked over his shoulder to the bed which was Nott's. He didn't know what to make of the other boy. During the train ride and the following meal, he had been very friendly. His advice was sound too. There just was something that wasn't adding together. If Nott had been a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor Harry might have taken it all for what it appeared to be, but Slytherins by rule didn't work like that. They could be friendly, of course they could be, as the house isn't everything, but if you were in this house the Sorting hat had seen that you had ambition and cunning, not to mention survival instincts. So it would be foolish of him to act like there couldn't be anything behind Joseph's friendly and self-sacrificing façade.

Harry leaned his head against the glass wishing that things could be easier.

The light that penetrated the water to get inside was just enough to see by. In great contrast to the light that the ceiling had emitted the previous night, the light that fell in through the window had a bluish tint to it. Everything appeared cold in its light, and Harry shuddered just a bit.

The curtains were drawn on six of the other beds. One had them pulled back, the covers neatly arranged on it, as if no one had slept in the bed. It was the other bed closest to the window. The trunk at the foot end looked old and battered. The leather was worn, the straps looking like they might burst if more strain was put on them.

'That trunk must be second hand,' Harry mused, peering at it through his glasses. 'Which of these purebloods would have a second-hand-trunk?'

He padded across the room on quiet feet. On the lid three letters were engraved. T.M.R.

'Should have seen that one coming, of course its Riddle's.' He snorted softly. 'The poor, but oh so talented orphan. Who else but he would have a trunk that looked like that?'

For no good reason at all, besides curiosity and recklessness born out of irritation at the world for throwing more trouble his way, Harry directed his wand at the lock on the trunk and muttered. "Revelio incantatem."

It was a version of a charm that would reveal hidden objects, but instead it showed you some of the spells that were cast over an object, it wasn't a very advanced detection spell, it only showed basic spells, charms and curses.

Harry was not disappointed however as light after light that indicated different spells lit up. He didn't recognize half the curses, those he did recognize were nasty, or in some cases astoundingly clever, all of them woven together as to make them more difficult to cancel.

'He sure didn't hold back. Thought it is the most battered trunk in the room it is probably also the best protected, besides mine that is. '

He hadn't held back at all when he warded his own trunk. The protections that had come with it to begin with hadn't been bad, but Harry had felt that if it was going to stand in a room that a future Dark Lord with a purpose had access to you couldn't be carful enough.

'Figures that it's Riddle who is the only one who's up. What time is it anyway?'

"Tempus." At the tip of his wand the numbers shone in a pale green. 6:14 am.

'I really should go back to sleep,' Harry thought and yawned. 'Yep, should definitely try to get some more sleep. I couldn't have fallen asleep until three in the morning. Riddle's crazy for being up. That's his problem though. I wonder what he's up to… I could check the map. Maybe I should follow him. I never promised not to do that…' He stretched and yawned again.

'To follow Riddle or to go back to bed; that is the question… Oh, who am I trying to fool?'

Harry unlocked his trunk and pulled out the Marauder's Map.

=(#)=

The corridors of Hogwarts were empty this Saturday morning. The breakfast hadn't begun yet and no one was up. Through the many windows the first sunlight of the day shone in. The portraits were all sleeping in their frames, and the ghosts kept quiet to not disturb the peace of the early hour.

Down by the lake stood a lone figure. A dark cape billowed out behind him in the morning breeze, a tendril of blue smoke getting caught by the wind.

Tom took a long drag from the small white stick he was holding in his hand. 'I should with this nonsense. Muggle filth,' he though, grimacing.

He took one more drag and then he threw the cigarette into the water where it sizzled quietly before it slowly drifted off. He took out the package of cigarettes from his pocked and looked at it, contemplating.

He had begun smoking the summer after his second year, when he was thirteen years old. He had been back to the orphanage and in a rare show of kindness he had been given a cigarette by one of the older boys. Not that there had been any kind intentions behind the action. When Tom first tried one he had coughed and they had laughed at him, enjoying his misery and mocking him.

He hadn't taken that well. If it hadn't been for the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, those boys who had laughed at him would have ended up badly cursed.

He could still remember their words. "Hey, blokes! The weird kid reacts like everyone else when it comes to smoking. Not so high and mighty now are you, freak? How does it feel to hurt like the rest of us?"

No mater how humiliating the first time had been Tom had tried it again. There had been something calming about breathing in that sweet tobacco smoke, and as the muggle war progressed it became harder to get your hands on cigarettes, which led to their appeal becoming higher.

Tom had continued to smoke when he could get his hands on any cigarettes. He had eventually found a spell that took away the bad effects that you would suffer for smoking which he would use when he was back at school.

Now they were the only physical manifestation of his time at Wool's Orphanage. He wanted to leave that place behind. Why was it so hard to just throw them away?

=(#)=

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Harry recited the phrase with the tip of his wand against the old parchment and spidery lines spread out from the point where his wand was pointing, and soon a map of the castle lay before him.

He located himself on it. The dot labelled Harry Potter was standing just where he was, in the seventh-year-Slytherin-boy's dormitory.

How his father, Sirius and Remus and managed to map out the Slytherin Dungeon to perfection was a mystery. Harry supposed they must have sneaked in here at some time. If he and Ron could do it in their second year, then surely the Marauders would have been able to do it during their time at the school.

By the dot with his name there were six others. He read, Raphael Avery, Joseph Nott, Antonin Dolohov, Orlando Mulciber, Emanuel Rosier and Fergus Lestrange.

Harry looked first in the Common Room to see if Riddle was there.

It was empty. The same could be said about every nook and cranny of the dungeons. Neither was he in the Great Hall, the library or the Owlery.

'Where is he?'

Next Harry looked outside and there he was, right by the shore of the lake. Tom Riddle.

'Hadn't expected that,' Harry thought and bit down on his lower lip. He hurried to put on some clothes before he grabbed his invisibility cloak, threw it around his shoulders and went out.

Harry walked briskly through the corridors, meeting no one. If it wasn't for the map, Harry would have taken a wrong turn as soon as the exited his new common-room. The dungeons were a maze that he had never needed to familiarize with, beyond the way to the potions classroom and Snape's office. To the uninitiated it was a labyrinth without exit.

It was as always dark and dank down here. Every corridor with massive stonewalls looking like the next. Harry supposed he'd grow used to them after living there for a year, but he was till relieved when he came out in the Entrance Hall which was more familiar territory.

He went outside, slipping through the oak gate and down the hill towards the lake. The dot that showed where Riddle was hadn't moved and the Head-Boy was indeed standing by the lake. He had his head lowered and was looking on something he was holding in his hands. Harry couldn't see what; he was still too far away.

As Harry moved closer he could begin to feel Riddle's magic. It wasn't suffocation like it had been last night. It was drifting slowly, occasionally reaching out for him; beckoning him to come closer.

'This isn't so bad,' Harry thought. 'This I can handle.' Nonetheless he opted to use occlumency as best he could and he raised his shields so that he barely felt the magic at all. 'Wow, I really do worry over nothing.'

Harry cast a none-verbal muffling charm on his feet. He didn't want Riddle to hear him, even if he wouldn't be seen. As Harry cast the charm Riddle snapped up his head and looked around.

'Shit! Did he hear me? He couldn't have!'

Riddle drew his wand; his dark eyes were narrow slits.

'Damn it!' Harry began to back away. Riddle was pointing his wand directly at Harry.

"Humenom Revelio," Riddle hissed and Harry could felt like something swooped over him.

=(#)=

The spell showed Tom the vague outlines of a person. The figure was backing away slowly. He had felt that magic was used, he could feel magic when he allowed his own to range free like he had done when he sought solitude by the lake. His magic was able to pick up energy from the surroundings, giving him an extra sense which was an advantage he enjoyed greatly. And he was more than willing to allow whoever it was to know that he had been detected.

"So, will you try to escape or will you reveal yourself," he asked in a drawl.

The hidden figure stopped its retreat.

"What spell did you cast just now?"

No answer, not unexpected.

"How did you make yourself invisible?"

Silence, still not surprising but a bit irritating.

"You have used some sort of silencing spell, no? That would be the logical thing to do if you wished to go undetected."

There was no reaction this time either.

His irritation was growing, but there was no use in showing it. "Okay then," he said lightly and Tom turned around as if he had dismissed the figure. The truth was that he had added a tracking spell on the person while he was speaking. Whoever it was wouldn't be able to move without him knowing it.

He returned his attention the package of cigarettes. He sighed and pulled up another thin white stick. He lit it with his wand. One last wouldn't hurt.

=(#)=

Harry stared. He stood stock-still under his invisibility cloak and watched as Riddle smoked, calm as if nothing had happened.

'How can he be so relaxed?' Harry breathed in the smoke and couldn't stop a small cough. 'Shit.' He cursed silently as Riddle turned around again, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Are you sure you want to play this game?"

'No,' Harry thought sulkily. He already knew he had lost. He had noticed the tracking spell Riddle had cast on him. It was one he didn't know the counter to. He would be able to look it up, but that would take time, and with that time Riddle would be able to find out who he was.

Harry sighed and walked up beside Riddle, he stood there watching the lake. The water looked very different from this angle, then it did from the window in the dorm, both had the effect of calming him.

Riddle had turned around too, to look at the lake. He took the occasional drag form his cigarette. The small smirk never fading.

"Do you want one?" the Head-Boy asked holding up the package of cigarettes.

"No," Harry whispered, his voice was so low that he was sure it wouldn't be recognizable.

"So you can talk."

Harry glared at the other Slytherin who stared right at him, although without meeting his eyes, though Riddle knew someone was there, he couldn't see him.

"Will you not let me know who you are?"

"I'd prefer not to," Harry answered, still whispering.

"Hmm. What will you give me for me to let you go?"

"I don't know. What would you want?"

"Give me a clue to who you are."

"Why would you settle for that?" Harry asked, suspiciously.

"We're at a stalemate, and it's more fun this way."

"You'll remove the tracking spell?"

Riddle's smirk grew. "You noticed that, did you?"

"Will you remove it?"

"I promise."

'That promise isn't worth much. Though I suppose I should take the bargain, if I don't he'll just out me, if I do as he says there's a small chance that I can come out this without him finding out who I am.'

"My middle name's James," Harry said after a long silence, hoping that Riddle would be satisfied with that clue.

"Finite Reducium," Riddle pointed his wand in Harry's direction. Harry repressed a small groan as the magic trickled over him. The feeling of Riddle's magic was in its way to overwhelming his defences. As it touched him feelings similar to those of the previous night trickled over him. It felt incredible good.

Riddle put away his wand in his sleeve. "Now we've both fulfilled our parts of the deal. I'm sure you're eager to depart so, I bid you good morning, James."

"Thank you," Harry whispered and hurried away. Keeping his guard up to make sure Riddle wouldn't place another spell on him. Riddle made no hostile moves. He just went back to looking out over the lake.

'I'll never understand him,' Harry thought wearily and hurried towards the castle.

=(#)=

When Tom could no longer sense the magic signature of his invisible companion he burst out into laughter.

'Slipping up already are we, Potter? We'll let the game begin.'

End Chapter 10

AN 13th August 2012:

So... This chapter pretty much wrote itself, hence why it's only two days since the last update. I feel like the quality isn't as high as it used to be in this chapter, that's partly because it is mainly dialogue going on. And as it wrote itself... well I don't know. Sorry for loading my insecurities on you guys.

I hope you like the chapter, and that it made somewhat sense.

I'd like to ad a small thank you to UniCrying. Your small comment made the scene where Tom uses legilimency on Joseph happen. (Så tack så mycket för det, japp, var inne på din profil och såg att du var svensk)

Until next chapter guys! I hope to hear from you. As always you keep the story going and you can influence me. We create this together!