A/N: I hope you have had a wonderful Christmas and Boxing Day. I know I have. :P


Run, Riddle, Run

The muggle was still struggling with his invisible bonds, chubby legs flailing around, tears running down the sides of his puffed cheeks. There was a high possibility that he was going to dislocate his own wrists if he kept this up.

"Let me go! Please! I haven't done anything!"

Begging. Always begging.

The Dark Lord regarded the snivelling fat boy in front of him, disgusted. So this was Potter's precious cousin.

He had not expected much, considering the brat was related to Potter … but still … This was just pathetic. Voldemort had thought he would be quieter, smarter and certainly braver, perhaps taking after Potter.

"Silence, boy."

"I haven't done anything!" came the high-pitched shriek. "Do you want money? My parents have money! If you keep me here, they'll sue! They'll go to court and you'll rot in jail for the rest of your bloody life."

"I believe I told you to be quiet."

"I want to go home!"

The Dark Lord closed his eyes, fingers flying instinctively to his temples. The boy was irritating, more irritating than he remembered Potter ever being. He itched to curse him, but he needed the boy coherent.

"You do not have a home anymore," he said coldly. "Your parents are dead by my hand. Your mother is strung up and your father dismembered. They will not be paying your ransom and nor will they be suing. Content now?"

The boy let out another wail.

"You're lying! You lying bastard! I'm going to kill you!"

If he was a lesser man, the Dark Lord would have knocked his head against his throne. He never assumed Potter could be the more tolerable one in his family. What a revelation.

"You will tell me the whereabouts of Harry Potter."

"My parents aren't dead! They can't be dead!"

"Where is he?"

"If you murdered my parents, I'll –!"

"I asked you a question. I expect you to answer it. Where is he?"

The boy bucked against his restraints and started swearing at him. The Dark Lord could feel his patience running out like water between cupped palms.

"I will ask you one more time –"

"Get bent, you freak!"

"Crucio."

The boy squealed at him like a stuck pig.

Finally, the boy stopped screaming and glared up at him from his position on the floor. "You're one of them. Wizards," he spat. "Harry's kind. I should have known. I'm here because of him, right?"

"How astute of you."

"Are my parents really dead?"

The Dark Lord smiled, considering the question for a while. "No, child. Do not be afraid. Tell me what you know, and I will set you free. You will go back to them."

"They're not dead?"

"No."

"I don't know where Harry is, but he always goes back to that school of his. He loves it, the magic. All his freaky friends are there too."

Voldemort contemplated. Why not Hogwarts? For Potter, it was sanctuary. He had taken over the school, but he could only imagine how easily Tom could pull the wool over his Death Eaters' eyes.

Of course.

The boy was right.

If Potter had hidden anywhere, it was bound to be Hogwarts.

"Bellatrix, I have some use for you."

"What about my parents?" the boy asked shrilly, even as Bellatrix approached.

Voldemort turned around. "They're dead."

The boy almost collapsed in a dead faint on the floor. "You lied."

"I always do. Now … Bellatrix, I need you to pay a visit to Hogwarts."

-0O0-

Harry could feel Tom breathing on his neck. He was invading on his personal space. And it made him bristle.

"Get your face out of my face please."

"Make me," came Tom's snarky reply. "Maybe I will once you tell me how you are able to speak Parseltongue."

"Maybe I will once you release me."

"Oh no, I don't think so." Tom had drawn nearer to him, if that was even possible, fingers splayed on his shoulder. Harry wasn't a fool. He recognised it for what it was: power play. "I have you right where I want you."

Harry's chest hurt from the chains binding him and his wrists had been rubbed raw. He was half tempted to ask Tom to loosen them, but his pride was still stinging from their earlier scuffle.

"Tussled up like a chicken in this chair?"

Tom smirked. "Of course."

Harry tried to not resort to petty name-calling but the urge to wring Tom's neck was too powerful and the fact that he clearly wasn't able to do so in chains made him bitter. "You lying viper," he bit out.

"Thanks." Tom had crossed the room and sat down, picking up a book. He flipped through the pages. Without looking up, he said, "I'm not the one in chains. Feel free to answer me whenever you wish. I'm patient, Harry. I can wait."

Sure. Whatever.

Harry rolled his eyes. He could wait too.

Except after about two hours, he could feel his resolve slowly crumbling. His ankle hurt like there was no tomorrow and it was beginning to become hard to breathe. Not to mention Dudley, who was still stranded with Voldemort.

He had to get out. And fast.

"Tom?" he ventured.

"Yes?"

God, that git was so smug. He was practically purring.

"Could you untie me?"

Silence.

"Please?"

"Nope," Tom said. "Sorry."

"Why?"

Tom raised an eyebrow as if it was obvious. "Because then you would run off to the Dark Lord's lair and sacrifice your own pretty head. Ever the saviour, Harry. You're too predictable, and it's too easy to play on that."

"What if I told you about my … Parseltongue?"

Tom narrowed his eyes. "Go on …"

"I had it for as long as I can remember. The snakes listened to me, all except the Basilisk. It – she –apparently, only obeyed you. When the Chamber was opened, they thought I was the Slytherin Heir because virtually all Parselmouths descend from Slytherin –"

"Which is precisely why I am confused," Tom said. "You can't have inherited it."

"Well –"

"That means you must have acquired it," Tom said. "But through what? What event would pass the ability on to you?"

"I –"

"It doesn't make any sense –"

"Will you stop interrupting me long enough to listen?" Harry shouted. "I don't know, all right? I have no bloody idea! It came to me naturally, and your interrogation is pointless. Will you release me now?"

"No."

"I can't believe you."

Tom's eyes softened. "But I can make it a little more comfortable if you'll let me. Episkey."

Harry grimaced as the bone in his ankle snapped back into place, causing a sharp pain to shoot through his leg. A second later, it stopped throbbing. He looked at Tom defiantly, unwilling to thank him seeing as he was still a prisoner but feeling slightly grateful all the same.

"I need time to think about your Parseltongue. It's odd," Tom said, almost talking to himself. He had a weird expression on his face. "It is unnatural, and it … reminds me of something. Déjà vu, almost. A connection. I get this feeling around you –"

Oh brilliant. Tom wasn't going to go soft and talk about feelings, was he?

"Never mind," Tom said abruptly. "I just need time."

"When are you going to release me?"

Instead of replying, Tom stood up and tucked the book away. He crossed the room in a few strides, making for the door.

"Where are you going?"

Tom glanced back at him. "To get you dinner."

With that, the door slammed shut behind the young Dark Lord. Harry was left in the silence, alone. He tried twisting to his left in order to loosen the chains and hopefully get free. No such luck.

"Laxo."

The chains heated, and then grew cold.

Harry writhed.

"Recludam."

Nothing happened.

"Liberum!"

Groaning, Harry sunk back in his seat, feeling defeated. Curse Tom and his spells. What the hell did he charm these chains with?

...

Tom nearly dropped the plates when the doors of the Great Hall flew open and a long string of Death Eaters marched in. They moved like black water, one after the other, no gaps in between. Wands out, on the offensive.

His eyes narrowed.

They had no reason to be here unless –

He glimpsed, from the corner of his eye, Snape standing up. He also saw a woman step out from the line, arrogance radiating off her in waves, and address him. Another one of his future self's incompetent buffoons.

How … quaint.

"The Dark Lord suspects there are wizards taking refuge here who are meant to be answering for their crimes."

Snape had an expression of disdain. "Are you accusing me of housing enemies of the Dark Lord, Bellatrix?"

The woman tilted her head up. "No, merely that they may have fooled you, slipped your watch, hidden themselves under your very nose –"

Tom was disgusted. He didn't have time for this. It meant the Dark Lord was on to them. Perhaps he would pay a visit in person soon.

And they weren't ready for him.

Harry wasn't ready.

Harry was skilled, yes, and he was also powerful in his own right. Except he could never face off the Dark Lord. Neither could he, for that matter. Voldemort was him – with years more of experience and an army of followers. Tom knew to never underestimate himself.

He couldn't take on that.

They had to get out of here. This was never his war, and he was determined that Harry would not fight it either. He wanted him alive and breathing.

The Time-Turner in his pocket, the one Snape had given him, felt like it was burning a hole through the fabric. Tom had never been more aware of it. Snape had told him to get Potter out as soon as possible. Perhaps it was time he heeded the warning.

The woman, Bellatrix, was moving now. Her wand was flashing at the tables, and her eyes studied their faces in a frenzied way. The Death Eaters were fanning out, checking them. The lights on their wands were flashing green, green, green.

When they got to him, Tom knew, it would be a red. There was no escaping this with crafty disguises or charms.

There was only one thing for it.

He slipped out his wand and blasted the plates. He ran. The sounds of the plates shattering like little bombs, one after the other, table after table, rang in his ears. It was a distraction but it wouldn't be able to buy him much time.

"Crucio!"

Tom could feel it aimed at his lower back. He didn't have to look back and see. Tucking his legs, he rolled.

It missed him by a few centimetres.

"Bombarda!" Bellatrix screeched.

He sidestepped it.

Up ahead, Tom could see the Room of Requirement. He made a beeline for it.


So many things in this chapter :D Voldemort is now on to them. Tom has a plan. Tell me how you think Harry will react :P