Chapter 28:

Harry felt cold all over, his stomach scraped raw and empty by the half an hour he'd spent bent clutching the toilet, vomiting.

Siri-Timmy the dog had been locked by Tom into one of the bedrooms when he'd snuffled around, worriedly, and growled and snapped at Tom's fingers.

Tom himself was now quietly sat next to him in the bathroom, perched on the edge of the bathtub, even if Harry had told him to go away, for the sake of privacy. It was humiliating enough that he was puking his guts out in horror of having caused the Death Eaters to kill themselves, in having performed the same sensory-deprivation torture that he himself so despised, without having Tom witness every second of his consequent breakdown.

Still, maybe it was a little nice when Tom leaned over once he was done, pushing the hair out of his face, wiping the clamminess from his face with a wet cloth, and handing him a glass of water and some mints to take the taste away, before firmly pulling him up with a hand under his elbow.

"Alright now?" The Dark Lord questioned.
Harry tried not to shudder, and was torn between shoving Tom away from where the other's hand had come to settle warm against his back, or to lean into the...kind touch.

He suspected it was partially the fact he'd been blindfolded, with his senses deliberately cut off by his captors. It wasn't quite the level of deprivation that he'd come to most fear, but it edged far too close to it for him to be comfortable.

Not that anything felt comfortable and easy anymore; all of his previous misconceptions, assumptions, the groundings of life, were slowly getting stripped away or questioned and he didn't like it. At all.

He still didn't even know how today happened!
They ended up on the sofa, and he shrugged Tom's arm away then, clenching his jaw, rubbing his tired eyes and fighting for composure because this was important.

"You were the only one who knew I would be at Hermione's today," he said, quietly. He moved his eyes to study Tom carefully, as much as he wanted to bury his head into the sand, to feel safe, to stare at the wall instead so he didn't have to confront the possibility that Tom had set him up.

"I didn't intend for this to happen."

"How did they find us? They're your Death Eaters, you control them!" Harry could feel his voice becoming louder, more angry and distressed and he absolutely hated it. He should be calm, to try and discuss this like a mature adult and not some lost child. He wetted his lips, glancing away from Tom to compose himself.

"I think we both know it's not so simple as that," the Slytherin returned, voice a painful contrast of quiet against his own, making him feel even more irrational even though he knew his points and suspicions were perfectly valid. "You were at Malfoy Manor."

"So you're saying these two Death Eaters just magically knew where I was?" he snarled, fists clenching, before he forced his tone to shift to be cooler, more like Tom's, mimicking his confident and eloquent manner of speech as best as he could from what he'd picked up. Tom always sounded so very grown up and logical, even when he was wrong. "I find that highly implausible."

"No, I'm not saying that," Tom said. "That would indeed be implausible beyond belief. I did tell the Death Eaters where to find you-" Harry felt a sharp shard of betrayal wedge into his gut, like ice, freezing him from the inside out. "I sent them to discreetly check on how you were doing, mistakenly, I now see. I didn't realise they would take matters into their own hands, and I sincerely apologise for not anticipating that. It will not happen-"

"-I may not be a Dark lord," Harry bit out, coldly, eyes hardening, teeth gritting, even as he wanted to shrink himself. "I may not be powerful, I may not be as clever as you or as old as you and I know you think I'm just some stupid kid trophy or something, even if I hold a higher...value to you than other people, but do you really think I'm that thick?"

"Excuse me?" Tom questioned delicately, eyes narrowing.

"Macnair acted like a total jerk in your Death Eater meeting. You would have suspected something. If you just wanted someone to check on me, you would have asked the Malfoy's, or bloody Snape, anyone but Macnair. It was more than obvious to everyone that he wanted both of us dead!"

Harry didn't bother modulating his tone this time, and he swallowed, folding his arms.
"At least have the decency to admit that this was a test and not lie to me, whether you were testing them or me."

Riddle stared at him for several long moments, and Harry wanted to snap at him to stop trying to think up more lies and a good way to explain his suspicions away.

"I was never going to let any true harm come to you," the Slytherin said, finally. Harry shook his head, violently. He'd been bloody terrified, this wasn't okay! He stood up from the sofa, moving around Tom, only for the elder to catch hold of him before he could put too much distance between them, holding onto his wrists tightly.

From an outsider perspective, it might seem like a reassuring gesture, but the hold was a fraction too secure to not be fully intended to be restrictive. Harry's eyes flashed.

"I said I'd stay with you, I never said I would be on good terms with you!"

"Do you really want to go back to the way things were in the beginning?" Tom raised his brows. "I much prefer our new arrangement and civility."

Harry snarled, even as Riddle's grip tightened again on his hands, yanking him closer. Harry hated being so short for his age, because it put them more or less on the same level right now. At least Tom wasn't standing to tower over him. Those eyebrows arched further, demanding answer.

Harry glared stonily.
"If it has to be unpleasant for me, I will make sure to make it hell for you."

"But it's not unpleasant for you," Tom drawled. "Is it? That's what's scaring you so much. You said you wanted to go home."
Harry froze, his mouth draining dry, and he shook his head again, wordlessly.

"Didn't mean anything. I just wanted to get out of there before you murdered Dumbledore."

"Yet you said it before the Order arrived," Tom countered. "You also hugged me."

"Well don't hold it against me," Harry snapped. "You're horribly clingy with all of your diary issues."
Tom blinked.

"...I'm not clingy."

"Yes you are," Harry said, no room for argument in his tone. "You're just not very affectionate in your clinginess. Or did you miss the fact that you're technically holding my hand right now?" he added, perhaps a little spitefully, or in some way vindictively...he didn't know. Tom squeezed his hands again.

"That's not clinginess, that's practicality. You have a tendency to run off and sulk in the middle of civil conversations."

"You also have a wand," Harry said, copying Tom's mocking, pointed eyebrow-raising expression.
Tom rolled his eyes.

"You're a brat."

"And you're clingy. Seriously, aren't you technically supposed to be a full grown man or something?"

"I wasn't hugged enough as a child," the Dark Lord drawled, smirking. Harry snorted, tugging a hand free, running a hand through his hair again, tiredly.

"Seriously though, if you ever pull something like this again, no matter what I'm not staying. I'm not a child, if it involves me, tell me. I've looked after myself for my whole life, it's sweet - or creepy, depending on how I want to look at it - that you want to do so now, but I'm not looking for a parent. I already have the best ones in the world, so...no, okay? I make my own life decisions. You don't get to make them for me, or pull stuff like this."

As much as he wanted to scream and rage, he didn't think that would get him very far with Tom. The other had always responded far better to him using his reason and rationality, to intelligence rather than emotions.

Tom's head tilted as he studied him with that same unnervingly intent gaze.

"Whilst I can agree to that and compromise that to some extent, I am still in charge here, and you will respect my authority, is that clear? Nonetheless, I will endeavour not to plot around you in such a manner again."

Harry watched him carefully, trying to judge his sincerity.
"Will you swear on that?"

"No."

"Then obviously you're just-" he began, frustrated.

"-I do not like limitations, Harry, and I cannot predict the future. It is in my nature to plot, you know that. I will attempt to compromise with you on this, if only so I don't have to deal with you trying to smother me in my sleep or poisoning my tea."

Harry scowled.
"Then don't you dare expect good behaviour and obedience from me."

Tom looked like he wanted to roll his eyes again.
"How about we play it by ear, you bring it up with me if there's an issue, etc etc. As you said, I'm not your parent, and frankly considering what happened to yours and the fact that they're dead I don't really want to be either-" Harry spluttered at that. "-But I am a Dark Lord. I have enough to deal with without you constantly being a brat, and, as previously established, I don't think you want me to have to spend so much time and effort disciplining you so that I can't focus on my followers and am thus over-run for the devil you don't know."

Sometimes Harry thought his life was absolutely ridiculous.
"Fine," he bit out. "You do your thing. I do mine."

"More or less. You are still a minor."
Harry's jaw clenched, and he figured he was just going to ignore Tom for now and concentrate on doing what he wanted anyway.

"First things first," he said, instead, loudly. "I want my wand back. I clearly need to learn to defend myself better, and you want me to be able to do that as well, so give me my wand back and get your own, whether yours went."

For the first time, Tom's jaw stiffened, and his eyes showed hints of genuine annoyance.

"I would have gone for my own wand a long time ago if I could, considering it is ideal for me, as opposed to yours which just works - due to our connection, I would imagine."

"You lost your wand," Harry stated, flatly.

"Voldemort misplaced it sometime in the last thirteen years."

"You lost your wand." Harry wanted to smirk now. "Yeah, you're a really terrifying Dark Lord, Tom."
He pulled his hands away, suddenly aware of the fact they were still trapped in Tom's grip, and stepped back. "I'm going to go let the dog out now. Get a new wand tomorrow or I'll get the Order to take me to Diagon Alley instead, and that doesn't give you bonding to the Dark Side points."

He heard Tom chucking behind him, but ignored it.
Light tone aside, his head felt jumbled, his stomach nauseous and barely settled and his mind ill at ease with this whole development and Tom's plan.

He was really not looking forward to seeing his friends tomorrow.


A/N: Be gone already, blasted writer's block! :( Sorry if this is disappointing and short, but I think I'm starting to get into the swing of things. Oh, and bear in mind this is Harry's perspective. You'll get Tom's next chapter, but I wanted to give you something as I don't know when I'll next have update time, and I'm about to go to bed cause it's 4 am. :/ I will hate myself in the morning. Bon Nuit! Thanks for the reviews. Hope this wasn't too painful to read.