Turn Back 53
AN 25th September 2012:
Hello, Dear Readers!
I apologize for taking so long to post this chapter, nearly three weeks have passed *gasp*, I'll try to not go that long again, but to cheer you all up, this is by far the longest chapter in the story so far and it has a lot of Harry/Tom interaction. I also tried to work a bit more with the editing, so I hope there won't be too many grammar/spelling mistakes. I sincerely hope you'll enjoy it.
Edit
24th June 2013: This chapter has been edited
10th January 2014: Another edit.
Chapter 14
Words: 9 325
As Harry went to the first class, he felt tense, and he was skittish, jumping at every sound, which made the students he passed in the corridor give him weird looks.
Potions class was up first and could hardly take in what Slughorn was going on about. Joseph had returned to his side, but he was too filled up by his own happiness to notice that Harry was behaving in a bizarre fashion.
Riddle was seated right behind Harry and he could feel the smugness coming of the Head-Boy in waves. The smirk that was ever present when Harry glanced his way held a promise of the disaster just waiting to happen.
Harry hid how completely miserable he felt. He had fought off tears of anger and frustration when Riddle left him in the Great Hall after quipping off that small, foreboding comment.
The git knew. Somehow he had found out, of that Harry was certain. It was quite possible that Riddle had insinuated to something else, just trying to rile him up. Though, for some reason Harry didn't think that was the case. The wording had been too spot-on for it to be merely a coincidence. "I think you'll find it very pleasurable."
Harry was ready to believe the worst and that meant that the would-be Dark Lord had found out how he reacted to his magic. That he continued to ooze confidence and smirk, Harry took as a confirmation of his suspicions.
But for all that Riddle knew he didn't get the chance to utilize the knowledge, for Harry had been right about the teachers wanting to start up the new school year by preaching. They went on and on about the importance of doing their best and working hard this year as their N.E.W.T.s were coming up and it was now or never. You might think that they could agree on letting the first teacher do it as the rest was all repetition, but no. Every one of them had to give their own speech.
The preaching was boring as hell, but Harry was still pleased by it as it left no room for any practical application of magic. No magic meant that Harry didn't have to experience the freaky reaction he had when Riddle used his magic.
And of course he shared every class he had with Riddle, so he could never escape those eyes boring into him or the smugness that filtered from the other wizard through his scar.
The Head-Boy took as good as every subject the school taught. How he could manage that Harry could only begin to guess, he knew that he would be struggling with the five courses he was taking. He had worked his damndest during his sixth year to toggle them all, and it wasn't as if things would become easier this year, and it wasn't as if the standards where lower in the forties compared to the nineties either.
Besides Riddle, it differed who was in his class and what other house he had classes with. For example there weren't many students who took potions, so in that class students from all houses mingled, while Defence Against the Dark Arts was popular, so in that class it was divided so that two houses had it together, just as it had been during the first five years of schooling. The Slytherins naturally had the class together with the Gryffindors. They would always be put together with the rivalling house in the classes that had the greatest potential in ending up a disaster and besides potions, what better recipe for disaster was there then having the students practising hostile spells?
Even though they didn't practise any magic in the classes for the first few days the teachers still handed out homework. It consisted mostly of pages they had to read in order to prepare for the following classes, but there were also a couple of teachers who wanted them to hand in essays. To his chagrin this left Harry with little time to continue his research into the connection he shared with Riddle.
Once he was done with his reading on both Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday it was late and there wasn't any point in going up to the Room of Requirement, so Harry did the second best thing and hid behind the closed curtains of his bed and read through those of his own books that held any potential until he fell asleep when he could no longer keep his eyes open.
To say that the progress he made was none existent would be too kind. He hadn't learned a single useful thing and it was granting on his nerves.
As if that wasn't enough that he was getting no closer to finding a solution, there was the frightening fact that he no longer only felt dread for the inevitable moment when Riddle would use magic in the class room. He had begun to long for it.
He had started to spend time thinking on how wonderful it had been. He desired to be filled up by that mind numbing pleasure again. He was haunted by the memories of it and he felt like he was about to snap from the conflicting emotions.
Tom Riddle still starred in his dreams. Harry could only be thankful that none of it had taken a sexual turn. He didn't know if he could handle having that sort of reaction to anything involving Voldemort and stay sane.
=(#)=
Harry's luck ran out on Thursday.
The first class of the day was Transfiguration together with the Ravenclaws. That on its own didn't promise disaster; neither did the appearance of the as usual cheery Dumbledore, whose eyes twinkled along with the stars that were embroidered on his purple robes.
"Good morning, class! I hope you all read though the material I assigned you as we will begin to practice how to transform small inanimate objects into large animals today, as well as large objects into small animal. Previously you have been given items of roughly the same size as the animal you have been trying to transfigure. You will find that it becomes a lot harder when you must also transfigure the size, as you will need to infuse the object with the belief that its mass has changed dramatically. It's not just like adding an engorgement or shrinking charm, which you should know if you did indeed read through the assigned material. Now let us start with a demonstration."
Dumbledore pointed his wand at a feather, which lay on the floor next to his desk. He said the incantation clearly and waved his wand precisely so that the class could observe the right way to perform the transfiguration. The next moment the quill had turned into an ostrich. The large bird stared at the class menacingly and looked ready to pounce. The students that sat the closest leant back in their chairs, while Dumbledore just kept smiling and went on teaching as if there wasn't a large angry bird standing next to him.
"In two weeks time I want you all to be able to perform this transfiguration, today though we will start by turning feathers into smaller birds, moving up. I know that many of you are eager try for the ostrich right away, but before I allow you to do that I want to have proof of that what we went over last year has stuck with you.
"First I want you to transform the feather into a dove, then a swan, when I've seen you perform that to satisfaction you are allowed to try for the ostrich, alright?" Some students grunted in affirmative while others chorused a "yes, professor." Dumbledore smiled happily.
"And you'll naturally have to reverse the transfiguration after I have approved of your success. Even though the magic will wear off in time it is important to be able to reverse the spells. I'll start handing out the feathers then. The instructions are on the board. If you have any questions, I'll answer them as I walk around."
Harry closed his eyes and steeled himself for the inevitable. He didn't even try to focus on the assignment, blatantly ignoring the small blue feather that Dumbledore placed on the desk in front of him.
He looked over his shoulder and watched as the professor came up to Riddle. It was only a matter of seconds now. He brought up his occlumency shields to the highest level, not having much hope that it would help, they hadn't been of much use previously and he could still sense Riddle's smugness.
He needed a backup plan, and he needed to think it up quickly, like ten minutes ago. It didn't help that his heart was beating hard in anticipation of the pleasure he knew would come.
When Dumbledore moved, Riddle looked straight at Harry, piercing him with his gaze and giving him a knowing smirk. Harry's heart rate skyrocketed, reaching new levels as the dark eyed wizard brought up his wand and begun to intone the incantation.
Harry could feel the magic sizzling in the air. It felt nice, warm and strangely safe at first. Then his nerves begun to tingle in the most pleasurable and intimate way imaginable. An intense heat spread through his limbs and a shiver ran down his spine, all the while his gaze had remained locked with Riddle's.
If the heat in those dark blue orbs were imagined or not Harry couldn't possibly tell, all he had time to feel before all rational thoughts left his mind was a pang of fear for the idea that these experiences would take a not so innocent turn if the handsome teen kept looking at him like that.
He succumbed to the feelings coursing through his body. It felt absolutely amazing and he never wanted it to end. This must be what heaven felt like, but it was too intense. Heaven was supposed to be peaceful; this was like the scorching fires of hell, filled with impossible heat and passion.
There was no peace to be found. It was intense. It was awesome. It was pleasure beyond anything he could have imagined. And it was over almost before it had begun. It hadn't taken more than a few seconds for Riddle to channel his magic to perform the transfiguration, and of course it had been successful the first time.
In the wake of the magical induced pleasure Harry was left breathless with the sound of his beating heart pounding in his ears. Sometime during that short moment he had closed his eyes. He opened them now, focusing again on Riddle. In the place where his feather had been, there was now a snow white dove. It sat there calmly, giving of a soft cooing sound.
Harry tried to calm down, trying to keep his focus solely on the dove. It was not an easy thing to do for he knew that soon it would all happen again, unless he did something to prevent it.
The question was just what he could do… and did he want to do anything?
Harry's effort to calm his breathing had gone unsuccessful, he was still breathing harshly as Riddle tilted his head up and met his gaze. Harry could now see that he hadn't imagined the heat in those dark blue eyes. Riddle looked him up and down, the smirk turning softer and becoming what looked like a genuine smile.
That did nothing to help Harry, who got more flustered and when the handsome boy winked Harry couldn't help but blush deeply. He was panting harder as the look in Riddle's eyes nudged his thoughts in a most undesired direction. The images that began to swirl completely unbidden before his inner eye where images he could very well have lived without. These were thoughts you weren't supposed to think about your enemy, thoughts that he had been so afraid of. Thoughts that made blood rush south.
"Harry? Are you alright?"
"Eh?" Harry turned to his left and saw that Joseph was looking at him, with concern in his clear blue eyes. That blue colour was so much more relaxing than the deep blue of Riddle's eyes. This colour was common, and there was no heat in this gaze, just friendly concern.
Harry turned back to Riddle, who was still looking at him. His gaze, dark and heated. Harry blinked and broke the eye contact as swiftly as he could make himself.
Joseph followed Harry's line of sight and understood what was going on. "Is it Riddle?" he asked in a whisper.
"Yeah," he whispered back.
"Haven't you found a way to counter it?"
"Not yet. I'm working on it," Harry answered tensely. He didn't like the accusation that was hidden.
"You better work faster then. You won't be able to hide your reaction for long."
"I know," Harry said clenching his teeth in agitation.
'What gives him the right to question me? From what I saw he had given up on his own addiction. Hadn't he resigned to his fate? How can he justify telling me to fight when he won't do it himself?' he through and glared at Joseph who was still looking at Riddle.
"Get ready, he is about to reverse the transfiguration."
'How the hell am I supposed to get ready?' Harry thought and then he was overcome by the sensation again. Warmth and shivers travelled along his spine. Magic was coursing through him setting every nerve alight. It felt so…. good. It only lasted a second, and Harry grieved the loss of it as he panted again. A low whine escaped through his closed lips.
"I… I have to…" Harry wasn't thinking clearly. He rose from his seat, his own magic compelling him to find the source of that sensation. Riddle was looking at him again, those eyes drawing him in. A gentle smile was playing on his full lips, encouraging him to come closer, telling him that if he would just submit he would be rewarded. And Harry would submit to feel that again. He needed… more.
"Harry!" Joseph grabbed his wrist and yanked him back down. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I…" Harry tried to think. The yank and the impact on the chair as he as he was forced to sit down, clearing his daze somewhat. "Damn it!" he swore as he understood what he had been about to do. "How am I going to live through the class?"
"We'll find away," Joseph tired to reassure him.
"Right."
Harry appreciated the effort. Really he did. It was just that he didn't believe it. The only thing he could think that would work was to get away. He knew that the connection dimmed with distance, so he should be relatively fine if he could get to the other end of the school. After all, when he had been in the dorm and Riddle in the Common Room the reaction had been strong, but in the weekend when they hadn't been close he had just been able to notice that the other wizard was using magic.
How to get away, though? And would he be willing to go when the magic was pulling him towards Riddle?
They both turned to look at Riddle again, who was now facing Dolohov, showing him the right wand movement required to turn the feather into a dove.
"How did he even figure out that you were, ehum, sensitive to his magic?"
"I don't know, nngh…" Harry was once again lost to the pleasure as Tom demonstrated the spell to Dolohov.
The end of the world could have come and he wouldn't have noticed. He could only feel the magic flowing in mighty waves through his body. Then it was over and Harry panted as if he had broken the surface after being held under water for a long time. He was staring with wide eyes, drawing in wheezy breathes, trying to centre himself.
"Merlin's beard, this won't work," Joseph muttered. "Professor Dumbledore!"
"What are you doing?" Harry tried to hiss, but it came out more like a breathless whimper, which Joseph didn't acknowledge one bit, and Harry could say no more as yet another wave of magic pulled him under.
The transfiguration professor came over to the two Slytherins. "Mr. Nott?"
"Harry isn't feeling very well. I think he needs to get up to the Hospital Wing."
"Oh?" the auburn-haired professor peered over the rim of his glasses at Harry, seeing that his green eyes were glazed and that perspiration had started to pearl on his forehead.
By the row of desks behind them one Tom Riddle was performing magic in quick succession all the while having a hard time to not show how much he was enjoying the predicament of his fellow student.
"Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore said in a gentle tone.
Harry gave no response.
"Oh, dear, I think you're quite right, Mr. Nott. Will you take him up?"
"Of course, sir."
Harry woke from his trance then only to notice a pair of blue eyes, which were without their normal twinkle. "Professor?" he asked weakly. His mind was still trying to process the last batch of pleasure.
"How are you feeling Mr. Potter? You left us for a bit."
"I'm fine," he said automatically, just as he'd done so many times before, whether it was the truth or not. He was always fine.
"Will you be able to continue with the class?"
"I… I think so, yeah."
"Well then, do carry on." There was a hint of scepticism colouring the words, still Dumbledore left them to attend to a girl in the back of the class who had done the previously thought impossible feat of transforming her small blue feather into a legit miniature gladiator arena, complete with gladiators fighting a flock of doves that in comparison to them were of monster size.
"Why didn't you take the chance to get away?" Joseph hissed when Dumbledore had moved away.
"That would be letting Riddle win."
"Don't you get it? He has already won!"
As on cue, Harry's head lolled back and his eyes glazed over again.
"Harry!" The enthralled teen didn't respond as Joseph grabbed his shoulder and shook him rather harshly. "Damn it! I'm taking you up to the hospital wing whether you like it or not. Professor! Potter isn't doing any good. He's had become unresponsive again. I'm bringing him up to Madam Durant."
"Alright, Mr. Nott, I can see that you are right about Mr. Potter. It appears to me as of he is too stubborn for his own good. Stay with him if you like, I excuse you from the class, but you'll have to attend your next. Madam Durant is to decide for Mr. Potter of course. And you'll both have time to show me that you can do the transfiguration next class. Continue reading the next chapter until then."
"Thank you, sir." Joseph turned his attention back to Harry who had slumped against him. "Harry?" The green eyed wizard was aware of his surroundings again. "Do you think you can walk?"
"What? I… I'm not going anywhere!"
"Oh, yes you are. I'm taking you to Madam Durant."
"But-"
"No!" Joseph cut him off harshly. Not at all interested in hearing what Harry might come up with in the form of excuses. "We are going. Now, can you walk?"
"Of curse, I can!" Harry rose from his seat and his legs bucked under him instantly.
"Harry!" Joseph got down beside him and helped him get back up, by now the entire class was watching them. "Stubborn fool. Come on, here we go."
They walked to the door, Joseph half carrying Harry.
"Potter."
They stopped as a silky voice spoke up. They glanced at Tom Riddle who the smoother-than-velvet-voice belonged to.
His face was a mask of concern. "Do get better."
"Right…" the bespectacled wizard muttered his voice full of sarcasm, even though it was shaking. "Thanks so much for that."
Riddle gave a full smile at that, his eyes blazing. "I mean it," he said and his tone left no room for doubt and in that moment he let go of his magic just a bit. If it hadn't been for the strong grip Joseph had on Harry, the emerald-eyed wizard would have pounced on the Head-Boy, those words in combination with that alluring magic undoing him.
"Come now Harry," Joseph muttered in his ear and dragged him off.
The duo left and the class resumed with their task. No one saw the wide smirk that spread over Tom Riddle's lips as he once more raised his wand and transformed his feather.
=(#)=
It was a hard struggle for Joseph to drag Harry up to the infirmary. The messy-haired wizard altered between becoming boneless and fighting with tooth and nail to get back to Riddle. Between the magic induced fits he was too breathless to move on his own, always on the verge of fainting, and what little breath he had over he used to apologise profoundly to Joseph for the inconvenience he was causing, only to have Joseph brush it away.
It became clear when they had moved out off range of Riddle's magic, for the magical fits Harry had became weaker, until the magical pulses only made him shudder slightly and close his eyes minutely before he was back to normal.
It was however clear that the experience had left its effects on him. His breathing didn't return to normal, he felt over sensitive, cringing away from Joseph touch until he convinced the other wizard to use a spell to levitate him to the Hospital Wing. That turned out to be a mistake as the magic started to course through him, making him convulse and scream in pain. Joseph was quick to cancel the spell.
"I guess you have no choice but to put out with my touch," Joseph said wryly, trying and failing to see something funny in the situation.
"Yeah," Harry said in a gasp and accepted it when Joseph pulled him to his feet and put an arm around his waist. He tired to not cringe away from the contact, even though it made his skin crawl with unease, still it was better than facing pain border line of the Crusiatus Curse . "I don't get why this is happening," he muttered as they started to walk up another set of stairs.
"Neither do I. I've never read about anything like this. First I thought that it resembled what I'd read about soul bonds, but it said nothing about either part being that responsive to magic and becoming repulsed by the touch of others or having any reaction like that to another persons magic."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, soul bonds are all about two people being attracted to each other," Joseph could feel Harry's glare at those words, "whether it be unconscious or not," he said in a placating manner, "and their magic responding to that by giving them pleasure when they touch or when they feel the other's magic. So I thought that it fitted a bit at first. Clearly that is not it."
Harry lapsed into a pensive silence, not that it was easy for him to keep up a train of thought. He was interrupted by small shivers of magic every other minute.
'Soul bond?' he thought sceptically. 'That couldn't possibly be it, could it? No. Nuh-uh, no way. There isn't any attraction between me and Riddle. Not one bit.' Harry sighed, resigned to the fact that he couldn't even lie to himself. 'I could handle the pleasure that could be platonic…' that thought remained uncompleted as it wasn't true either.
'Oh, Merlin, I was screwed as soon as this started. I could never pretend that it wasn't connected to him, not with how it was his magic coursing through me, and now he bloody well had to go and look at me with scorching dark eyes. And he had to smile. The smirk I wouldn't have reacted to, but by all that's holy, I didn't know Riddle could smile like that, like he actually was a good person who cared about others.'
Harry felt disgusted by his own reactions. 'I have to end it. It's just my body reacting, it doesn't matter. He will never sway my mind. I will not allow it.'
Belatedly they arrived at the Hospital wing, and Harry thankfully untangled himself from Joseph and fell down on one of the beds. He didn't lie back yet, but he slumped over and rested his head on his knees.
He hadn't thought that he'd live to see the day when he was glad to be in the infirmary for any reason. Usually he tried his damndest to get away from there, always impatient for the moment when Madam Pomfrey reluctantly would allow him to leave.
As of now he was just glad that he was away from both Riddle and Joseph. He didn't know how much more he could take at the moment.
"I'll go fetch Madam Durant," Joseph muttered and walked to the other end of the large room where the med witch's office was.
Before he could knock Harry called out. "Hey?"
Joseph turned. "Yes?"
"Thank you, for dragging me up here."
Joseph raised an eyebrow slightly, and gave a small smile. "Don't mention it."
Harry heard that Joseph knocked on a door, and the following squeak as it was opened.
"What is the matter?" asked a female voice in a no nonsense tone. It made Harry reminisce Professor McGonagall.
"Harry was…"Joseph didn't got to say any more for Madam Durant swept past him and got up to Harry.
"Mr. Potter," she said kindly and placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, which he immediately shrugged off.
"Please don't do that," he said weekly and looked up into the frowning face of a witch of large stature with short cropped, steel gray hair.
She studied him, and noticed with dismay that he was panting as if he'd just run a marathon, he looked pained and tired and his forehead glistened with perspiration.
"What happened to you young man?" she asked and batted her wand against her thigh making small sparks erupt from the tip. Harry's breathing got laboured as he could sense the magic and he closed his eyes.
"Madam," he said in a whisper, "could you please refrain from doing that?"
"What was that, dear?" the old witch asked in a gentle tone, her frown becoming more pronounced.
"Would you please stop moving your wand?"
"Oh?" she seemed to become aware of that she had been moving it at all. "And why Mr. Potter would you ask me such a thing, as well as asking me not to touch you?"
Harry slumped back on the bed, too tired to answer. It was hard to relax when his breathing wouldn't slow down, he felt completely exhausted.
"It has to do with why his here," Joseph offered in Harry's stead.
"I see. Will you tell me what you know, Mr. Nott?"
"I think Harry is having an overreaction to magic."
"What makes you say that?" she asked seriously if that was true this was more grave then she had first surmised. She knew that Joseph was an intelligent young man who had extensive knowledge in many fields of magic, and she would listen to what he had to say. If he was right, it wouldn't be a good idea for her to cast any diagnostic spells.
"He didn't like it when I touched him, or when you did as we just saw," Joseph started. "I had to steady him to get him up here, he couldn't walk on his own, but he would cringe away form me. You said that my touch made your skin crawl, right Harry?"
A small sound of acknowledgement came from Harry who kept his eyes closed.
Joseph continued. "And well, I tried to use a spell instead so that he wouldn't have to suffer contact as it clearly made him so uncomfortable. That ended up with him screaming in pain."
"Oh my!" she gasped and jumped into motion without further explanation, ushering Nott away from the bed Harry was sprawled across, and subsequently hurrying to a door to a storage room. "Give me a hand here, Mr. Nott," came her muffled voice from inside the small space.
Joseph went to help her and together the brought out a screen that looked a lot like the normal privacy-screens that were put around patients' beds, but instead of the neutral white that the normal screens were, this one was done in a vibrant scarlet.
"This is a magic blocker, Mr. Potter," the nurse explained as they placed the screen around Harry's bed. "If you indeed have had a reaction to magic, and become sensitive to it as it seems you have, it is imperative that no more magic is added to your system until all foreign magic has faded. You'll be feeling exhausted until that time, and you won't be leaving that bed until I say so," as the woman said this her face took on a stern demeanour that could rival Madam Pomfrey's on any day. Then she hurried off again. She came back a moment later holding three vials in her hands.
"Drink these, Mr. Potter," she said and handed them to him, being careful not to touch his skin.
Harry sat up as best he could and gulped down one potion after another without tasting them. Then he fell back against the pillows. His vision was swimming.
"I can't see," he muttered. "Is that supposed to happen?"
"Yes, that is the diagnostic potion working, if Mr. Nott is right I can't use any spells to check on you, there off the potions."
Harry just lay there waiting and he could here Madam Durant mutter under her breath. He felt her eyes on him, she was watching him intently, but he was just too tired to care.
"I'm afraid that Mr. Nott was indeed right." She bustled around a bit and returned with a high glass and a pitcher of water.
"It's good to drink in your condition, so I want that pitcher to be empty within the hour. Water helps with the cleansing of your magical core, and it is to water we must look, for any potions that could have helped all have magical properties which will only do more harm than good."
"Alright," Harry mumbled and felt slightly ill at the thought of so much water sloshing around in his stomach, still he drained the first glass dutifully and allowed Madam Durant to fill it up again.
"I'm interested to know more about how you have been feeling. I want to know everything. It is important for me to learn what triggered the reaction so that I can help you avoid it in the future. Mr. Potter, do you have the energy to tell me?"
Harry and Joseph shared a look. "I don't know," Harry mumbled and gave a small shrug as his answer.
Madam Durant didn't look impressed. Harry thought about what would be safe to tell her, not the full truth that was for sure. He opted for part for of it. "We had transfiguration just now and when people started to use the spells I could sense the magic." That was true; he only omitted to say that he knew exactly whose magic he had reacted to. "I didn't do anything to make it happen. It wasn't intentional, it just sort of… happened."
"I see. That's problematic. Can you tell me what it felt like?"
Harry hesitated. He didn't like to tell anyone about this, it was embarrassing, especially with how things had started to evolve.
"Mr. Potter, I am trying to help you, but I can only do so if you allow me."
"Alright," he mumbled meekly. "It, eh… It felt… good, more than good. It felt absolutely amazing," was the answer he gave eventually blushing deeply.
"I see," the medi-witch said unfazed. "Very well. Can you tell me anything else?"
Harry hesitated again. What should he say? Joseph took the decision from him.
"Harry struggled with me; he wanted to go back to the class room. It was as if some sort of magic was drawing him in."
"Thank you, Mr. Nott. Now, Mr. Potter. It doesn't look like we'll have much luck with finding out the cause for your situation. I do not recognize much of what you have told me. I will consult with some of my contacts at St. Mungo's, but I don't think we'll come up with anything until you're already better. All we can do is to treat it. That means rest, drinking a lot of water, no performing magic and no contact with magic, until I say so. Depending on how much magic you have absorbed the time it will take to cleanse your system will vary. I'm guessing you'll be fine by either tomorrow or the day after that." Madam Durant moved outside to the other side of the screen and did something with her wand. "Can you sense that, Mr. Potter?"
"I didn't feel anything," Harry said honestly, not a little relieved.
"Good, good, that means the screen is working. I've never had to use it before, not in the forty years I've been taking care of the students of this school. You seem to have calmed down a bit after I put up the screen, is that correct?"
Harry contemplated the question. His breath had calmed down a bit, and he could no longer sense the vague traces of Riddle's magic that had been following him all the way up to the Hospital Wing.
"Yes, I do think its helping," he said with a bleary smile. "What is an overreaction to magic, exactly?" he then asked.
"It simply means that there is too much magic in your system. You're body has drawn in magic that it felt was benevolent and it has been stored within your core. A wizard's core isn't built to hold more than the wizards own magic. We all have different capacities, but having both too much or too little magic in the core is detrimental to your health.
"What will make you feel better is time. With time the magical balance will be restored, your body is able to take care of it. Until then you will have a bad reaction to any foreign magic, except the source from which you got the excess. That is also why the touch of a witch or wizard will feel uncomfortable to you; we have so much magic in our bodies that you will react to it."
"Wouldn't allowing me to cast lots of magic make me use up the excess and make me fine again?"
"No. You might think so, but in this condition you should not perform any magic, any spell you used would be vastly over powered and would likely backfire on you. So no magic until I give a clear, understood?"
"Yes, Madam Durant," Harry said timidly, and in a sign of good will he took out his wand from his robe sleeve and placed it on the table next to the bed, before falling back against the pillow.
"Well then, Mr. Potter. All you can do for now is rest. When you feel a bit better you should be able to do a bit of reading, we wouldn't want you to fall back in your studies this early in the school year. I'm sure Mr. Nott wouldn't mind bringing your books for you."
"I can do that," Joseph said and Harry gave him a thankful smile. At the moment he was to tired to contemplate reading, but he knew that if he was to be stuck in this bed for a few days he'd end up bored sooner or later and he might as well use the time on his hands to keep up with his school work, not to mention that he was very much planning on continuing his research to the extent that it was possible from the infirmary.
"Can you bring my entire trunk? It will shrink if you just tap it with your wand."
"Sure thing, Harry."
"Thanks, Joseph."
=(#)=
Tom basked in a sense of accomplishment the rest of the day. All the irritation that had been slowly piling up had been brushed away by the display in Transfiguration that morning. Potter had finally showed that he was something worth while; he had the ability to provide good entertainment. It had been a joy to see the prim mask that the new Slytherin always used in public, be swept away as he lost his control. It was delicious to know that his magic was the reason for all of Potter's poise draining away.
Oh, how he had loved to see Potter squirm not only because of his magic. How he could undo the boy with one look. Sometimes he had hated that he looked good, for people would look at him, would desire him and that had been dangerous before he had learned to defend himself, but now it added to the power he could wield. To undo a man with a glance, that was power, and he was going to savour this memory of Potter.
It felt good to be back in control, to no longer be chasing a mystery, but to be the one holding all the cards. The compulsion he had placed on Nott, worked like a charm as well. He had placed it on the weak willed wizard when he lay asleep in his bed the previous night.
Tom had grown agitated at finding out that Potter knew about the Room of Requirement, and he was done playing nice. He was going to use his entire arsenal to get Potter into his proper place, and that was at Tom's feet, with all his secrets bared, ready to give a vow of servitude.
The compulsion he had placed on Nott was one that directed him to befriend Potter and learn as many of his secrets as possible. Tom wasn't above using an unwilling spy to find out what he wanted to know. Seeing as it was dear Joseph who helped Potter up to the hospital wing after the oh-so-misfortunate episode during transfiguration, things were turning out exactly as he had planned.
=(#)=
Tom ventured down to the chamber that night. He had already completed all the essays he'd been assigned and he had read all of his books weeks before the school had started for that year.
He was feeling calm and secure, knowing that Harry wouldn't get up to any mischief in his absence as he was securely confined to a bed in the infirmary. Tom didn't try to fight off the smile that was playing at his lips when he descended the stairs down to the main chamber; he had a lot of hope in the book which he was going to start reading this night.
Later Tom closed the book and sighed. A headache was sneaking up on him and he massaged his temples lightly. What he had learned from the ancient tome did not bode well for him. He hadn't liked what is said one bit and he needed to find out if it was true. It was too bad that the only way to try this theory was to reverse his and Potter's roles. The good thing was that he would be able to change back as soon as he'd confirmed his suspicions.
The book he had spent the night submerged in was not about soul bonds, sole mates or any such sentimental drivel as; love eternal. The book he had been reading spoke of magic, and how two magical beings could have corresponding magic which could lead to effects such as the ones Tom had witnessed since meeting Harry Potter.
What he liked least of all was that the text hinted at the probability that one in the pair would be magically stronger than the other. Now that didn't sound too bad, did it? The bad part came when the book explained how you'd identify who was more magically powerful.
The one with the most power of the pair was the one who initially showed the strongest reaction to the corresponding wizard's magic, this leading up to the conclusion of Potter being stronger than him. That conclusion did not sit well with Tom. He couldn't imagine that this scrawny new wizard with his messy hair and bulky glasses could possibly have more magical power than him, he who was the Heir of Slytherin.
It didn't sit well with him as he hadn't been able to sense anything special about Potter's magic at first. It wasn't like when he'd returned to school for his third year when he had learned to feel auras and been blown away by the powerful light magic that surrounded Albus Dumbledore. Potter had felt just like any other wizard to him, average in every sense of the word.
But that he hadn't been able to feel anything special about Potter's magical aura was also explained in the book. It said that the one in the pair who initially didn't feel the connection as strongly wouldn't do so until the bond had been created. That was what the magic was trying to do at the moment and the magic worked that way, because people with strong magic was often also strong willed and the magic knew that it would take more effort to sway a wizard such as that.
The book talked about magic as a living being with emotions and desires. Tom agreed on that part. Magic was more than just energy existing in the world for the sentient life forms to harvest, but as of right now he wasn't agreeing with the goal his magic had sat its aim on.
Magic which corresponded such as theirs might be doing, wanted to come together, so the two beings in possession of the magic would feel drawn to each other, and the magic wouldn't relent until it got what it wanted.
This also explained the feeling he'd gotten when he'd shook Potter's hand at the back of the Hogwarts Express. He could distinctly remember feeling as if he'd encountered a part of himself that he didn't know was missing. That was because Potter's magic worked on the same "wavelength" as his own. It felt familiar, and there was no wonder he was having some possessive inclinations concerning Potter.
In order to confirm it, Tom would have to use a spell that would make the magic assume him as the strongest of the pair, if that spell worked it would leave him in the position Potter had been in, sensitive to his magical correspondent's magic. If it didn't work the theory was incorrect.
The spell was simple and easy to reverse so he had no worries when it came to that part. He just didn't like the implications, should this theory be correct.
A visit to Potter was in order.
=(#)=
Harry was feeling a bit better in the afternoon the next day. He still felt drained and he was glad that the magic blocking screen was still in place.
He didn't care to count how many glasses of water Madam Durant had made him drink since he'd been stuck in that bed.
Even though Harry was ready to go mad as his mind was numb from boredom he was still glad that he wasn't allowed to leave the hospital wing to attend the classes. He could only imagine what would happen if he had to be around other young witches and wizards performing magic, or coming in contact with Riddle. Either thing would set his recovery back, and he did not fancy being cooped up in the Hospital Wing for longer than he had to, even though it was a nice reprieve from everything Tom Riddle.
Now he would have the weekend to come up with an answer to his problem. By Monday he would hopefully have found some sort of solution which would allow him to function as normal.
Harry sighed and turned the page in the book he had in his lap. At least Joseph had brought him his trunk by lunch the day before. He was immensely thankful for that. If he hadn't had access to something to occupy his mind, no matter how tired he was, he was sure he'd have gone crazy sooner rather than later as he was already on the way to there.
Something that had been nice, were the visits he'd had. There had been Joseph of course, who'd come by after the end of classes again, this time bringing Avery and Lestrange. It had been amusing to listen to the three of them banter. Wladek and Kaja had both been by as well and somehow his grandparents had found out that he was in the Hospital Wing so he'd gotten a few letters from the overly anxious Bethany.
He blamed Joseph for them finding out. The blue-eyed pure-blood knew much more than he should. He had an explanation for Joseph knowing about them though, besides their shared last name, Joseph knew through his uncle that Harry had accompanied Daniel Potter to the Ministry.
The first letter had simply been a reply the letter he had sent out. It had been nice, his grandfather had reassured him that things would be fine and Bethany had showered him with concern. It was a good feeling to know that people cared for him. It just made him wish that he'd had that parental love from a younger age.
As it was drawing closer to dinner Harry began to grow tense. He couldn't pinpoint the cause of his reaction. It was some primal instinct in the back of his mind telling him that something bad was coming.
He couldn't feel any magic in the air as the screen blocked everything, and he was the only student in the infirmary. Madam Durant wasn't there either. She had retreated to her office after having bullied him into drinking a full pitcher of water about an hour earlier.
Harry could only hope that he was imagining things, though that seemed to positive an outlook to be truly believable.
He became too agitated to continue his reading and marked the page he was currently on in Magical Connections and Bindings. He tapped his fingers on the stained leather cover and felt like there was an itch inside him that he couldn't reach, and then the reason for his turmoil presented itself.
Through the door walked Tom Riddle, visible in the crack between two of the screens. Why was he even surprised?
Riddle smiled pleasantly, and was as well groomed as always; hair and clothes impeccable.
"Good day, Potter." Riddle walked past the barrier that the red screen provided and Harry shuddered as he felt a wave of magic crashing into him.
Harry felt tempted not to answer, but he didn't see any good coming of behaving childishly, so he tried to be the better man, and croaked out a stiff; "Riddle," in greeting and the other boy chuckled at his obvious uneasiness.
"How are you doing? We were all so very worried when Joseph had to almost carry you from Transfiguration."
"Stop the act," Harry said with a glare. He didn't feel like indulging Riddle, not with how his magic was once again in connection to his own. Although Riddle wasn't actively performing any magic, he didn't even seem to have let it lose as he had done on the train, or by the lake, Harry could still feel it keenly. It was as if his senses had become sharper during the time he had been deprived of all magic from the outside.
"Whatever do you mean?" Riddle was the image of innocence with widened eyes and a small frown turning down the corners of his mouth.
"What I mean is that you weren't worried at all, as you know what's wrong with me."
"And what is that?" Riddle walked forward and sat down gracefully on the edge of Harry's bed, making the mattress give away a bit to his weight.
"Why should I tell you?"
"Why shouldn't you?" he countered.
Harry huffed. "You know what? I would feel much better if you would stay on the other side of that screen."
"Is that so?" Riddle leaned closer, giving a smirk as a shudder passed through Harry. "Now where would the fun be in that?"
"Please back off," Harry said through clenched teeth.
"Fine." Riddle didn't retreat beyond the barrier of the screens, but he stood and brought out his wand. Harry raised his hand in a vain attempt to stop him. Riddle didn't spare him a single look. With a wave his wand, which had Harry convulsing in the sensation of pleasurable, warm magic flowing through him, the handsome wizard conjured up a plush, elegant, leather armchair.
"Madam, Durant will have your head for this," Harry threatened, there was no edge to his voice, though, it was too weak.
Riddle laughed. It was a light sound, devoid of malice or mockery which Harry would have expected to find in it. It wasn't anything like the maniacal crackle of Voldemort. It was a nice sound, and Harry found that he was blushing, which was completely irrational, this made Riddle's mirth grow tenfold.
Then Riddle said something that made Harry's mind clear again. "She wouldn't. She adores me. And she'll never find out, will she, Harry?" The tone was a sweet as sugar, but there was no doubt about there being a threat in there, a threat that was much better executed than the one Harry had tried just a moment earlier. It was made all the more menacingly by the casual use of Harry's given name.
Harry refrained from answering, opting to turn his back to Riddle, to stop himself from doing something he would regret.
His instincts screamed that he shouldn't turn his back on the enemy, but he kept his senses wide open. He held his wand in a tight grasp, he had snatched it from the side table as soon as he saw Riddle enter, damn the consequences of overpowering any spell. He wasn't going to sit there defenceless with Riddle in such close proximity.
Still he knew that he would most likely be useless when it came to any defence. His magic was in flux and his limbs where still wobbly so he wouldn't even be able to fall back on physical violence, and besides this was a young Voldemort. Even as a teenager Riddle was an accomplished wizard. However Harry wouldn't let any of that stop him if it came down to it. Meanwhile, he could only hope that Riddle wouldn't risk doing anything too malicious with Madam Durant so close by.
"I've brought with me notes from the classes you missed."
Harry turned around and gaped. Riddle was picking up a large stack of parchment from his bag and placed it on the table next to Harry's bed, right next to a pile of books.
"Are you seriously giving me that?"
"Yes, Potter, I'm giving you copies of my notes."
"Why?"
"Because it's the prudent thing to do, we are supposed to help our fellow students. Besides, we Slytherins take care off our own. I'm also a prefect and Head-Boy, helpfulness is part of the description of my duties. It's nothing personal, I assure you."
"Well…" Harry didn't know what to say. This was most suspect. Riddle was not supposed to give him his notes. He was supposed to mock him and maybe cast another spell to humiliate him further than he had already done, not help him, even though it was his fault for putting Harry into this position in the first place. At the very least he should demand something outrageous in return for this favour.
Harry wanted to give a sarcastic remark to that. He wanted to snort and say that it wasn't bloody likely. He didn't, though. "Thank you," was what he ended up saying.
"You are welcome."
They sat in silence, Harry becoming increasingly agitated while Riddle remained seemingly unaffected by the awkward silence between them.
"Madam Durant tells me I'll be leaving by tomorrow morning," Harry said, desperate to break the silence.
"That's good."
"Riddle?"
"Yes, Potter?"
"Why did you really come here?"
"To check up on you, and give you my notes of course."
"That's only the excuse you fashioned. Why bother coming to see me, when it was you who put me in here?"
"You are very irritating, do you know that?"
"I try." Harry gave a pathetic excuse for a smirk, he still hadn't nailed how to do it, he didn't have the practice of his fellow Slytherins, it didn't help that Riddle's magic was getting to him.
Riddle didn't say anything more he brought out his wand.
"What are you doing?" Harry sat straight up in the bed, worried now. This was what he had expected; for Riddle to hex him or something along those lines. Not that he understood why Riddle had singled him out in the first place. He hadn't done anything particularly suspect. They had only met a few days ago for crying out loud.
It must be something about the connection. What did Riddle know?
Riddle ignored him. He swished his wand muttering a short incantation. Harry gasped and could feel the magic again, but something was different. It wasn't coursing through him as it had previously done. It felt as if it was being sucked out of him, and at the same time it felt like it was being encapsulated. It was a very strange sensation. It was over in a moment, and when Harry opened his eyes, he couldn't remember closing them; he could see that Riddle was in a state of breakdown.
He looked just as Harry had been feeling up until that moment. Perspiration was pearling on his brow. His eyes had gone glassy and he was panting softly. As Harry watched with a slack jaw, Riddle fell down in the armchair and grew increasingly pale.
"Hey? How are you feeling?" Harry asked, biting down on his lower lip. It was just like him to worry about his adversary.
"Fine." Harry almost couldn't recognize Riddle's voice. It was rough, not refined and smooth as it was supposed to be.
"Can I do something?" Harry was feeling generous. What ever Riddle had done, had left him in a better state than he'd been since arriving at Hogwarts.
"Yes," Riddle said curtly. "Just sit there and stay quiet."
Harry did as requested. He pulled up his legs so that he could rest his chin on his knees. He remained in that position just watching Riddle.
The Head-Boy's eyes where small slits. He was looking out at the world through his lashes, appearing to want nothing more than to close them, but being to wary of his surroundings to give in to such weakness.
"Mr. Riddle!" Madam Durant had walked upon the scene. Her face was like thunder. "What do you think you're doing? Up! Out!"
Riddle quickly composed himself, though Harry could see how much it was costing him to do so.
"I apologise, Madame," he said in an effort to go back to his usual smooth and polite self, Harry had to concede that he was doing a good job at it. You would only see how tired he was if you know to look for it.
"Fine, fine, now be gone with you, Mr. Riddle."
"See you later, Potter."
Harry didn't get the chance to answer before Riddle was gone.
End Chapter 14