A/N: Newly revised chapter!
Warnings: Blah, blah, blah. You should know 'em all by now. I should let you know that I dislike letting my characters catch breaks. You love-and-cuddles types expecting a heart-to-heart better brace yourselves. -Cackles evilly-
Key:
Speech: "Praise the Gods! She updated!"
Parseltongue: §"Praise the Gods! She updated!"§
Thoughts: 'Praise the Gods! She updated!'
Disclaimer: -Hums distractedly-
Harry was doing his best to keep his face smooth as he recounted everything he knew about Tom Riddle's past, but inwardly he was positively cackling with glee and triumph. He was hoping desperately that he could postpone the moment of truth. He really didn't want to talk about his family. Hopefully Riddle would ask how Harry knew all this, and Harry could launch into the story of how he had found out. Actually, it was more like several stories, so it would take awhile. However, once he finished, Riddle didn't question him, just stood there with a thoughtful expression on his face. Harry's triumph faded.
§"Hmm, you know most of the background info… I can probably get right to it."§
Harry cast around desperately. If Riddle got through his story, it would be Harry's turn.
§"Aren't you curious at all about how I know all this?"§
§"Yes, but I figure if you tell me, it could alter the course of time."§
§"Isn't that the point of treating you nicely while you're here? Changing the past?"§
§"Ah, but simply telling me might just give me ideas."§
Harry glared at him. Tom smirked.
§"So, as I was saying, you know most of it."§ He paused, hesitating. He grabbed Harry's wrist, tugging them both down to sit on the floor, managing not to irritate their already inflamed wrists.
§"As you know, I was raised in an orphanage. It was a clean and well-kept, but still a pretty bad place to live. A lot went on behind the matron's back."§
Harry refrained from asking what part Tom played in the stuff that went on. From the pained look on his face, Harry could guess. Tom looked down at the floor and began to trace lines in the dust. Harry had never seen him so uneasy. Mind, he hadn't seen much of Tom period, but he didn't strike Harry as the type to get nervous.
§"We all wanted to be out of there. It was pretty much kill or be killed. You had to know who was boss, and if you didn't, they'd teach you the hard way."§ Tom shuddered, then continued.
§"Not a lot of people came to our orphanage, since we were in a pretty shady part of London. If they did, they were all really rich aristocrats, who only wanted to show off how 'generous' they were, taking in kids who were 'hardly better than street kids'."§ Tom laughed bitterly.
§"I was nine, and the people who took me in were some wanna-be high-rollers, trying to show off. I could tell, but I was pretty much desperate to get out of there. The matron told them I was 'gifted', even though I was just different, the freak."§ Harry winced. He could empathize. Tom paused for a long moment, and the hard look in his eyes told Harry that he was remembering.
§"They took me back after a week, telling the matron that what I did was 'simply not natural'. They called me a demon child. Said I should be exorcised. Beat me with a Bible. I had bruises for weeks…"§ Tom trailed of, obviously lost in thought. After a moment, he seemed to jerk out of it.
§"Anyway, they lived in the same part of Surrey you do. Even after fifty-odd years it's still the sickly-sweet cookie-cutter neighborhood."§
Harry stared at Tom, who was currently glaring hard at the floor. He beat back the vicious monster in his head that was whispering that what Tom had gone through didn't compare to what he had gone through. Looking at Tom now, he could tell that telling Harry all this must be one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. Reliving is always worse than living.
He had no right to say that Tom's trials were inconsequential. Tom's older self may have set into motion any and all events that could be described as 'Hell' for Harry, but Tom didn't know that. It wasn't Tom's fault. Harry couldn't let his own bitterness get in the way of the empathy the other boy so desperately needed. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like to know that people had only been able to handle putting up with him for a week. The Dursley's may not have liked him, they may have been negligent and cruel, but at least they kept him. And they weren't particularly devout, either, so exorcism wasn't really an issue. There, that silenced his inner selfish bastard.
That posed a question; how in the name of Merlin does a Gryffindor comfort a Slytherin? They could go on a killing spree, decimate something adorable. Are all Slytherins homicidal maniacs? Hmm… Maybe it's only the criminally insane that get perverse pleasure out of slaughtering the endearing. Do Slytherins constitute as criminally insane?
Harry shook himself mentally. He was being ridiculous. He glanced at Tom again. The other teen was still glaring at the floor. Harry ran a hand through his hair agitatedly.
TRHPTRHPTRHP
'Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!'
Tom glared at the floor, hoping desperately that there was some way he could salvage this mess. How could he have agreed to do this! He'd just let out some of his biggest secrets about his life. He could not let anyone see him weak, especially not this messy-haired… waif! Ugh. The future was obviously damaging his ability to come up with a proper insult. He sounded like the matron of the orphanage.
He agonized over what Harry would do with the information Tom had let slip. 'You've been a Slytherin for four years Tom. You should know by now when to keep your mouth shut!' Ugh. Now he sounded like his Head of House. Stupid, bloody Snake Face and his stupid, bloody plans and his stupid, bloody time travel!
Tom needed to slaughter something, desperately. What would Harry say to a short excursion into London, preferably an area frequented by anything cute and fluffy? How much would it take to convince the Gryffindor to accompany Tom on a homicidal rampage? Do Gryffindor ideals allow them to indulge the criminally insane?
Tom shook himself. This must be where the whole 'Dark Lord' thing came from.
He glanced up in time to see Harry open his mouth.
'Don't comment. Don't comment. Don't comment.'
§"It's a long story, like I said, so get comfortable. It started in on October 31st, 1981. You- er- Voldemort came to my house, set on killing everyone inside…"§
TRHPTRHPTRHP
Tom closed his eyes, taking a moment to absorb everything he had heard, and keep control of emotions. He had been immensely relieved when Harry had just plunged straight into his own story, not commenting on or taunting Tom about any part of his own. Now he almost wished that he could extend the same courtesy to Harry. Awkwardness hung thick in the air as Tom turned over everything he had learned.
Harry wasn't a muggleborn, as Tom had believed. Come to think of it, Tom could vaguely remember a boy being sorted into Gryffindor last year- a boy with the surname Potter. That explained why Tom hadn't recognized the name beyond what he had heard the Death Eater's whispering; he never paid attention to silly little insignificant first-years. Harry was a half-blood, raised by his muggle Aunt and Uncle. The rags he wore were a result of said Aunt and Uncle not being bothered to take proper care of Harry.
Tom couldn't decide if it was good thing or a bad thing that he and Harry had so much in common. Stupid, bloody childhood. Stupid, bloody muggles. Stupid, bloody empathy. He glanced at Harry.
§"A cupboard, Potter?"§ He sneered. There, no more stupid, bloody empathy.
Harry scowled.
§"A Bible, Riddle?"§
Tom bristled.
§"Must have been nice to know that you were something those muggle relatives of yours could tuck away with the coats and shoes. Wouldn't want anyone to see you, would we? What would the neighbors say?"§
Harry snarled, jumping to his feet, tugging Tom with him. Neither boy even paused to wince at the pain that lanced through their wrists as the handcuffs bit in. They each drew their wands.
A/N: -Cackles- I told you it wouldn't be pretty! Anyway, IMPORTANT notes about the chapter:
Harry's inner-bastard: Human beings are, by nature, selfish beings. We do not like to acknowledge that another person's trials are worse than our own. Harry is no different. He is just quick to snap himself out of selfish-mode.
Tom's attitude: Tom is unused to empathizing with anyone. It unsettles him, and he has no idea how to deal with it. Therefore, he antagonizes to get out of the uncomfortable situation.
The homicidal comments: -Giggles- I just finished reading the 'Johnny the Homicidal Maniac Directors Cut' and I could help myself. If you don't know what that is, it's a comic book. Google it. People with sick senses of humor will love it. If you do know what that is and have read it, good for you! Rise JTHM fans! Band together! We will take over the world!
Anyway, review please! I need you guys to come and bitch about my grammar; I think I made some mistakes.