Wee! This was supposed to happen two chapters ago. So glad to be back to where I thought I was going. Thank you to all you lofely people who are reading this!
Snape stared at her for a moment, expression beyond just rage, before taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose. "You exposed a weakness to him, knowing full well the terrible use he could put it to?" His voice was tight, and she felt the blood drain from her face. In all of the preparation for coming to talk to the professor, Heather had forgotten the multitude of sins she had yet to confess.
"I- I was mad. I was mad at you and him, and I've been having these awful nightmares instead of sleeping…" Heather was making excuses and knew it, but her mouth kept running. "And he's mad all of the time, at everything! Nothing I did stopped it, and it was either throw that anger at him or try and blow up the castle." His expression softened marginally. Death might come quickly now. "Afterwards you felt the need to tell the Dark Lord your school teacher was more frightening than he was?" He sounded like he was dreading the answer.
Helplessly, she shrugged. "He's a school teacher now too. You've just been terrorizing me longer. " Heather couldn't help but point out. "Also you can't really hold that opinion against me. Ron thinks you've been trying to kill me for ages, Hermione has pointed out you enjoy watching me suffer too much to want me dead," His face was growing more and more disbelieving as she rambled. "and you've conditioned Neville to fear you like the wrath of God."
The potion's professor glared at her as if she were proposing throwing all of the ingredients in the pot to 'see what happened'. He might have even stopped breathing for a moment at the sheer stupidity coming out of her mouth. It didn't matter if it made sense. That was how she felt about the whole thing. Voice very, very controlled, he finally spoke. "You told your little friends about our lessons after I specifically forbade it?" Heather shrank away from him. "They, uh, they kind of just figured it out…"
Anger drained out of him. "Miss Potter, you at least know I am actively trying to keep you alive." His voice contained the exhausted tones of the long suffering. "So why are you actively hindering me?" Before Heather could dig herself in deeper, Riddle stepped around her through the office door. The door that neither of them had thought to close behind her. "Perhaps because she has already resolved to die." Snape didn't react to his sudden appearance, but her heart began to race. How long had he been there?
The door softly closed with a sinister snick. The Dark Lord's presence seemed to suck the air out of the room. Or maybe that was because she was holding her breath. Heather still had no idea what to do about her own personal demon, and here he was making himself comfortable behind her most hated professor's desk. Gathering herself, she managed to choke out "Excuse me?"
That smirk made another brief appearance on his face. "How did you put it? You could 'end it all and solve both your problems'?" He leaned forward. "Not that it would work. You'd be taking your life which would most likely render our agreement null and void." Blood frozen, she blinked at him. "So now what? You drive me insane until I give into my secret urge to take my own life?" Riddle exchanged an unreadable look with Snape. Heather realized they may have taken her words as admittance of suicidal tendencies. Feeling silly clarifying herself to two people who hated her, she glared at them. "An urge I don't possess." Her denial echoed hollowly in the potions master's office. Instead of answering her question, Riddle leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "There is a secret department inside the Ministry, called the department of Mysteries." Heather couldn't help but interrupt. "Is it at the end of a black tiled hall?" He raised an eyebrow at her, and she suddenly felt stupid for no discernible reason. It was a legitimate question. "Inside that room is a prophecy that only you and I can collect. I want you to fetch it for me."
This time when he invaded her mind, it was not as a slow trickle but as a train wreck. Unlike Snape he wasn't looking, he was showing. Her professor withering under the cruciatus curse, her mother begging for her little girl's life, the agony of her soul being shredded. The connection cut off again. Panting, she tried to process the new information. "I believe you wanted me to stay out of your head?" Which hurt again, and that was just a taste of what he could do with her mind. Still, Heather pulled her aching mind close. Might not do much, but she hated being bullied. Defiantly as she could manage rubbing her head, she muttered plenty loud enough for them to hear. "Snape is still scarier." She could practically hear his teeth ground and she hastily corrected herself. "Professor Snape. I mean."
"I must confess myself also curious. Why do you respect me more than Severus?" Heather glanced at the man in question. His face was empty as he watched their conversation. "I don't, weren't you here for that? He's a hell of a lot scarier than you are." Sighing, Riddle clarified. "Not fear girl. Respect. As you pointed out I want you dead and he doesn't… at the moment. And yet you do not even attempt to antagonize me the way you do him?" Heather, head aching and already sick of the conversation, decided maturity was overrated. She stuck out her tongue, and followed that up by exaggeratedly rolling her eyes like Ron did. "Can we add a stipulation to the deal that you also don't try to psychoanalyze your way into my head?" Snape finally broke his self-imposed vow of silence.
"Miss Potter, if you could refrain from antagonizing the Dark Lord?" He sounded less angry and more resigned. Riddle dropped the subject thankfully and stood. "We will make an unbreakable vow, with Severus as our binder." He stood and fixed her with a look. "You will not speak a word of this to Dumbledore." Realizing that they were setting terms, Heather's mind raced. "I get to hear the prophecy too." She blurted. If only they could get it, then it must concern both of them. "Naturally." He replied easily, as if he wouldn't have withheld that information had she not brought it up. "Remember miss Potter, that violating the terms of the agreement will lead to your death." He cautioned. "A voluntary one that will more than likely leave me unharmed." This time she caught the qualifiers. "I suppose neither of us wants to risk finding out the hard way that we were wrong."
Riddle offered her his arm, and Heather resignedly lifted her right arm in return. He gripped her hand, but turned her arm over to get a better look at the fading green mark on it. "What's this?" He sounded angry, and she tried to jerk her hand back. Last week's tiff, burned bright in her mind. "Just a memento from yet another time my inherent stupidity got the best of me." She jerked her arm again, but he held tight. "So you make a habit of protecting those who cause you harm?" Heather was not enjoying being this close to him, when his voice sounded that mad. "No! I just make a habit of dealing with my problems in my own." She tugged again. "Let go."
He sighed, but ignored her. "Severus." Riddle said, and for a moment she froze thinking he had figured it out. The image of her Professor withering in pain flashed through her mind again. The man moved closer to them, raising his wand over their still joined hands and she marginally relaxed. They were just starting the ritual of the vow.
As they both stated their terms, a new thin golden wire would wrap around their joined hands. While it looked like it should burn as tightly as it cut into them, she felt nothing but the tightening of their magic. When they were through, they were both left with marks from the patterns of the light on their hands and arms. With a wave of his hand, Riddle banished or concealed them.
Great. He also can do magic wandlessly. As if Voldemort didn't already have enough of an advantage. "You have until the new year, Miss Potter." Heather decided not to point out that they hadn't stipulated that, so it wouldn't be a deal breaker. He nodded at her potions professor who nodded back. "Severus." Riddle then left, door swinging opening before him and closing behind him without any visible coercion.
Heather stared at the door for a moment, before turning her attention to Snape. The man suddenly looked tired. "Get out." He stated, moving to sit behind his desk. It seemed like a bad idea to press him, so she slipped the token she had brought onto the desk, and then made her escape.