Demented

Tom had a strange dream that night. He was padding through a forest on four furry paws. Moonlight streamed eerily through the tall pine-trees, and ominous howls pierced the night, but still he padded on. He was looking for something - but what? Tom didn't know. It went on like this for some time, scanning the dirt-and-mud-and-grass ground with gleaming yellow-lamp eyes for - something. There was a strange burning sensation in his chest, a dull pounding as he walked. This went on for some time.

Suddenly, his fore-paw stepped upon something hard and small. Tom winced in pain, but then his eyes were drawn to the stone he had trodden on; it was small, black, with a curious white mark upon it, like a triangle with a line through it. Tom had no idea what it was, but for some reason, he picked up the stone in his little black furry paws and turned it over, once, twice, thrice. When he had turned the stone over for the third time, he allowed it to fall to the grass and looked around expectantly.

When he turned, the dark man was there. Tom felt ecstasy erupt in his stomach then, a leaping, dancing joy that he felt quite sure did not belong to him. Suddenly, the burning sensation in his chest was gone.Finally, finally! a woman laughed joyously. It's gone! He's here! He was a tall man, frighteningly pale, his nose a mere slit in his stretched-taut skin. His eyes were scarlet slits, yes, but they were cold, colder by far than Tom's or even his sister's had ever been. They glared down at the four-legged cat which crouched in supplication before him.

"Rise," he hissed coldly. "Get up from there. You're embarrassing yourself."

Tom felt himself eagerly nodding, and then suddenly he wasn't a cat with a stubby white-tipped tail any more, but a woman, tall, pale-skinned, with piercing scarlet eyes. Hurriedly, devotedly, Tom - or was it the woman? - curtseyed before the dark man.

"Master!" he exclaimed joyfully. "I did it! You're back!"

The dark man's crimson eyes found Tom's, and those cold eyes instantly quelled all of Tom's joy. Cowed, he fell to his knees at the dark man's feet. "Am I?" the dark man enquired. His scarlet slits slid downwards, past the kneeling Tom, to the small black stone lying, forgotten, in the grass. "What is this stone?"

"The Resurrection Stone, Master!" Tom said, though he had no idea what the Resurrection Stone was. "One of the Deathly Hallows!"

Curious, the dark man rolled the black stone between finger and thumb. His scarlet eyes studied the scratched-white markings upon the stone for a long while - and then he crushed it in his fist. "Am I back?" the dark man repeated, allowing the black-stone dust to scatter to the winds. "No, I am not. This is not enough, you fool."

Tom's heart forgot to beat. "Master?"

"Give me your wand," the dark man hissed. Cringing, Tom did so, and the dark man slashed the wand - a cruel stick of black walnut, strangely familiar - towards Tom. "Avada Kedavra!"

Tom expected the blinding flash of green light, and the onrushing sound of death - but when it didn't come, he wept.

"Master, what have I done wrong?" he sobbed, clutching at the dark man's knees as he tossed the walnut wand aside, disgusted.

"Get away from me!" the dark man hissed, slapping Tom away with a large, pale spiderlike hand. "You are useless - you - you..."

But the dark man was fading, and fading, like breath on a mirror, and then he was gone, and Tom was sobbing alone in the woods.

"No more bloody day-trips," Tom hissed, as his cell door creaked open and an all-too familiar shadow slipped inside. "No more errands, Lily. Just let me out of here so I can kill my bloody sister."

"Someone's in a bad mood today," Lily remarked dryly. She crossed the claustrophobic cell in three quick steps, then began to work at the fastenings of Tom's chains with soothing, nimble hands. "I thought you enjoyed our little trips, Tom." Her fingernails scratched the scorched-raw skin of Tom's wrists, and he yelled in pain. "Sorry," she said quickly, letting the heavy chains clank to the floor. "I-"

As soon as he was free, Tom wrapped his pale hands around her slender throat. As Lily screamed, quickly stifled, Tom pulled her close, so close he could hear her panicked breathing, and the thumping of her heart as their chests pressed together, and see the scarlet gleam reflected in her bright-brown eyes.

"I don't want Dumbledore's bloody redemption," he snarled, as a searing, burning feeling burst into life within his chest. The Vow. "I don't want you. Funnily enough, I don't want a bloody trial and execution either." Tom tightened his grip on her throat, squeezing and squeezing until a flush crept into those pale cheeks. "All I want, Lily, is to kill my bloody sister so I can die in peace. Is that too much to ask?"

"Tom, let me go." Lily's voice was muffled, but even, and the burning within Tom's chest rose to an agonised scream.

"Delacour won't find my sister," he said in an icy almost-whisper. "None of you will. She's too clever for you. Only I have even the slightest chance of finding her. So I do you the bloody courtesy of offering to help you take down my sister, and what do you do? Lock me up!"

"Help us, then," Lily choked out.

"I can't!" he yelled in a voice so demented it surprised even him. "What am I supposed to do, chained up in a bloody cell all day and night?"

As the fire suddenly surged through every vein and artery in his body, Tom screamed and released Lily. Instantly, she scrabbled away out of his reach to the opposite wall, half-panting, half-sobbing. Even in the half-light of the cell, as he writhed and yelled, Tom could see the bright-red marks on her pale skin where he had throttled her.

"You're to come with me," she said in a small, cold voice. Mercifully, the flames inside Tom's chest were retreating. "We're to search the tower Dad found you in for your sister."

Every muscle in his body screaming disobedience, Tom pulled himself to a seated position, head resting against the cool-stone wall. "I told Delacour where the towers were. She took her men to search them."

"She's still searching the first one. The one on the moor."

Tom's head was pounding, but this didn't add up to him. Delacour had two hundred troops at her disposal, and there were hundreds more besides in the castle, Harry Potter and his ilk. Lily knew where the tower was. Why should she need him? "Just you and me?" he rasped hoarsely. "Why?"

The cell's heavy wood-and-steel door was slightly ajar; in the warm-orange light that streamed in, Tom saw a flicker of discomfort in Lily's eyes. "Let's just say tensions are high up there," she admitted. "Dad thinks it'd be a good idea to get you out of the castle for a while." As she spoke, she massaged her raw throat with slender fingers. "A few people tried to get into your cell last night. They were trying to - well..."

"Who?"

Lily's eyes found Tom's. "You really want to know?"

"I suppose it could have been any of them," he murmured bitterly. "Anyone except for your saintly bloody father."

There was a long silence then. Lily gazed at Tom with a strange mixture of revulsion, fear and - something else that might have been hurt - and Tom stared back coldly. Finally, Lily eased herself to her feet, one hand still at her bruised throat. "We're going now," she said.

"No."

"It's an order," said Lily.

As the burning feeling burst back into life in his chest, Tom met Lily's eyes. "I suppose I'll die, then. Have you ever seen the Unbreakable Vow kill someone, Lily? It's excruciatingly painful." Tom forced a sickening, monstrous grin. "Want to know how I know? Elizabeth and I found a farmer up in the plains of Moldova. Nice place, really idyllic. A wife, a son, a daughter, all blonde-haired, blue-eyed...anyway, Elizabeth thought it would be fun to make the farmer swear an Unbreakable Vow to murder his family. I agreed. The farmer swore the vow at wandpoint, but when it came down to it, he didn't have the guts to do the deed. The fire ate him from the inside out while his family watched." Tom laughed harshly. "Afterwards, we killed them anyway."

How's that for bravado, Lily? The red-haired girl shook her head slowly, tears budding in her pale-brown eyes. "You really want to die now, Tom?" she asked softly. "Is this how you want it to end?"

Tom shrugged, though the fire was searing through him. "Seems as good a way as any. It's almost...poetic. All you have to do is step out that door, Lily. I'm sure you'll hear the screams."

Lily took a long, cold glance towards the slightly-ajar cell door. Her left foot seemed to twitch - but then a tear splashed to the floor, and she turned back to Tom, expression coldly furious. "It's not an order," she said, and the pain fled from Tom's chest once more. "You're not getting away with everything you've done that easily. Please, Tom. Come with me."

For some reason, Tom nodded.

They left the grounds of Hogwarts in silence. Tom walked in front, Lily two steps behind, her left hand buried in the depths of her robes. Her fingers were clasped tightly, Tom knew, around the hilt of her wand. As they walked, Tom could feel the eyes on them; on him, the tall, frighteningly-pale man, ragged and filthy, and on Lily, the short, slender red-haired woman with mottled-purple bruises all around her throat. He could hear the whispers. Luna Lovegood watched them pass, pale protuberant eyes blinking slowly; Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Angelina Johnson flashed Tom dark looks as he passed; Ron and Hugo Weasley, sitting together on the castle's front steps, leapt to their feet when they saw Lily's throat.

Ron Weasley stepped forward, arms raised to block Tom's path. "Lily..."

Silently, she shook her head. For a moment Tom thought the two red-haired freckled men would challenge her, but then Weasley stepped aside. As Tom and Lily walked on, Weasley sat next to his son on the castle's steps, heads bowed together, whispering urgently. Soon, they were out of sight, and Tom and Lily were on the narrow, winding mud-track that led through the pine forest to the castle gates. The trees grew thick here, and the shadows fell long. Glancing from side to side into the gloomy half-darkness of the forest, Tom thought more than once that he glimpsed a pair of curious yellow eyes, and heard thepitter-patter of tiny feet. He had seen nothing more, however, by the time the gates came into view.

Tall iron gates flanked by winged-boar statues, they parted with a squeal of rusted hinges as Lily approached. Tom stepped over the threshold first, and took a deep breath; yes, they were free of the castle's protective enchantments, he could tell. Her left hand still firmly clasping her wand, Lily stepped to Tom's side and grabbed his arm. For a second, as she turned on the spot and Tom was whisked into the squeezing rubber tube of Apparition, he thought of throwing her off. They would be separated, and Tom would be free. He didn't fancy the idea of being Splinched, however, so Tom resisted the impulse. The vice-like grip of Apparition grew tighter and tighter, until Tom thought he would never breathe again-

And then his feet landed on cold black stone, and a great numbing cold fell over Tom like a blanket. The island was swaddled in a thick smoky-grey fog, reducing the jutting, flowing volcanic-black stone Tom knew was all around to mere shadows. The only sound to be heard was the sea-water gently lapping against the rocks; otherwise, the island was deathly silent. No gulls cried their shrill calls, no crabs skittered through the rocks and pools in search of plunder, no rats scraped and scrabbled underfoot.

"Can you feel that?" Lily whispered suddenly.

"It's the tower," Tom said. To the north, even through the fog, it rose, a great ghostly-black something in the sky. He could feel it. "It's calling me home."

"No," said Lily. Tom glanced sidelong at her, and was surprised to see that her breath was misting before her, freezing in the air, and her teeth were chattering. On a strange impulse he touched her hand, and her flesh was bone-chilling cold. "It's - it's something else. It's cold. Can you feel it?"

Suddenly, Tom could. The wind had an icy bite to it, howling and snapping across the rocks, but this cold was deeper than that. It penetrated Tom, reaching deep inside with grasping, raking tendrils, digging its cold claws into anything that was happy or hopeful or warm. Uncertain, Tom's eyes met Lily's - and then he saw it. He stiffened, reaching for a wand that wasn't there, as he glimpsed - something - in the fog behind Lily. The briefest of glimpses, and then it was gone; a fluttering black cloak, half-invisible in the fog.

Had he just imagined it? Or could this be his sister's work? She could certainly fly - had she finally come for Tom? Was this - this cold - some power of hers that she had concealed from Tom? God knows she had hidden enough.

"This fog isn't natural," Lily murmured, in a voice barely above a whisper. "Let's search your tower so we can get out of here."

Wand in hand, she stalked off into the fog. Tom hurried after her, picking a path through the knee-high maze of jagged stone towards the tower as carefully as he dared. His heart was suddenly hammering, and with a horrified jolt Tom realised that the island was no longer silent. It came through the fog, a hoarse, rattling breathing, a sound that stank of death. In the murk, it seemed to come from all sides. As he and Lily hurried through the fog towards the tower, he glanced frantically around, and saw them; black, shapeless - things - in the fog, drawing closer and closer. Tom could feel them, drawing all the warmth from his soul. He was shivering, he realised suddenly.

"What are these things?" Tom asked, fighting to keep his voice calm as, all around, the tattered-black creatures drifted closer.

"You've never met them?" As Lily, crouching in the shadow of a fifty-foot tall rise of stone, turned to Tom, she sounded surprised. "Strange, I'd have thought they were right up your alley."

"Who?"

Lily just laughed - but it was a cold, humourless noise. Stepping forwards, she slid her wand from beneath her robes and thrust it towards the fog. The creatures were beginning to take form through the murky mist, inhumanly tall, swaddled in wispy-black cloaks, their clammy hands dead and rotting. "Expecto Patronum!" she yelled.

Nothing happened. Lily's eyes widened in panic and fear. "Expecto Patronum!" she screamed again, her voice high-pitched and tremulous. There was a thin spurt of a strange silvery-white substance from the end of Lily's wand - but it froze and died in the icy air, and Lily sank to her knees. "I can't," she exclaimed, glancing desperately at Tom. "This cold - your tower - it does things to you, it makes you feel like you'll never be happy again..." Suddenly, she tossed her wand to Tom. Surprised, he barely caught it. "You try. Expecto Patronum. Think of a happy memory."

"Happy memories?" As the rattling, sucking breaths of the creatures in black cloaks suddenly intensified to hoarse screams, Tom tossed the wand back to Lily. "Try someone else, 'Lil."

A creature swooped down from the fog. Tom caught the briefest glimpse of dead, clawed hands, and a gaping grey hole in a rotting face - and then Lily had shoved him aside, and they were running, and a thousand screams were ringing in Tom's ears.

Images flashed before his eyes as they fled, and the creatures swooped and dived all around; himself, chained to a hard-backed wooden chair while accusing faces stared down at him. He was in the orphanage courtyard in Hogsmeade, face down in the gravel, whimpering in pain while the other children kicked at him over and over and over again. He was at Hogwarts, suffering through James Potter's relentless mockery while Hugo sniggered, Rose turned away, preferring not to see, and Lily fled to seek help that would never come. He was in a dark corner of Knockturn Alley while men in skull-masks closed in on all sides. He was in a deserted classroom at Hogwarts, caked with dust and blood, watching Lily twitch and scream on the ground, wondering what on earth he had done. He was-

"Tom?" A familiar female voice cut through the nightmare. "Tom?"

Tom opened his eyes, though he had not known they were closed. Looking around frantically, he realised he had fallen. His head rested in a stagnant half-frozen puddle, and all around was worn-smooth black stone. The sky was black too, and the shadow-creatures were swarming like sparrows. One came now, screaming down towards Tom, reaching out with its clammy-grey hands, and Tom tried to yell a warning - but then there was a sudden, blinding white light, and the pounding of hooves, and then Lily's face was swimming into view before Tom, and the shadow was fleeing into the black.

Behind Lily the tower - his tower, flowing upwards like a melted candle - was infested with the creatures. They swarmed so thickly around the volcanic-black stone that the walls seemed to pulse and move beneath their weight.

"Tom?" Lily was yelling now, shaking him violently. "Elizabeth's not here, we have to go, we have to get away, but you have to get up, Tom!"

There was a cold, gnawing pain in Tom's chest. He felt empty, and high cold laughter was still ringing in his ears. Another creature swooped near, rotted jaws gaping, but a huge silvery-white creature chased it away, and for a moment Tom felt almost warm. Weakly, he scrabbled to his feet. As Lily wrapped an arm around his waist and turned, Tom took one last look at the abandoned, infested tower he had once called home.

Then, they were gone.

"There they are," Tom remarked. "And don't they look happy." Lily followed his gaze across the grounds of Hogwarts, past the muddy track and the greenhouses and the Quidditch pitch to the castle proper. There, crowded on the front steps, were her father, her uncle and dozens more. Even at this distance, Tom could tell that they were watching he and Lily. Waiting. Almost involuntarily, Tom's eyes slid to Lily's neck, and the bruises that were rising there. "They'll kill me for that," he told her flatly, pointing at her bruises. Tom knew a lynch mob when he saw one.

"You tried to kill me."

"Trust me, Lily, if I'd ever wanted to kill you I would have." Tom's eyes flitted back to the castle's front steps, where Potter and Weasley and the others were descending hurriedly. They spilled out onto the lawn, making a beeline for Tom and Lily across the grass. "You were always the smart one in your family. You know that killing me now will be utterly pointless. You know that I'm the only one who can find Elizabeth." Lily's eyes were fixed on her father and uncle rushing across the lawn towards them. Her expression was inscrutable, her eyes calculating. "You know you have to let me go."

"I could come with you."

"No," Tom said simply. He placed a hand on Lily's shoulder, taking care to avoid the bruised areas of her neck. "Lily-"

"I'm going to ask you two questions," she interrupted suddenly, throwing off Tom's hand to turn and meet his eyes. "You remember your Unbreakable Vow? I order you to tell the truth." There was a tremor in her voice as she continued. "What did you do with James?"

"I buried him beneath a holly bush," said Tom. "Under the sun."

"Where?"

"Is that your second question?"

"Answer the damn question," she snapped. "Or I stick a Body-Bind Curse on you and give you to my Dad."

"Next to the tower where I found Elizabeth," Tom said. "It's the tallest bush under the west side."

"Good." Lily took a deep breath, as if that would dispel the tears suddenly welling in her bright-brown eyes. "Good. Next question, then. Why did you come back?"

"I thought the wizarding world might still have a place for me," Tom said. He glanced to his left, where Potter and Weasley were sprinting now, wands raised, five hundred feet away. "Obviously, I was wrong."

Lily stared at Tom for a long while, a curious expression upon her face. "You were," she said finally. She glanced to her right, at her onrushing father. "I've got no idea why I'm even considering doing this."

"Neither do I."

She smiled at that. "Okay then, Tom. Go kill your sister. For some reason, I actually think you'll do it." Lily held out a hand to Tom, and he took it. It was soft, and warm. "Good luck." Behind her, Potter was closing in. Tom turned to run - then Lily grabbed his arm. "You remember your Vow?"

"How could I forget it?"

"Good." Her voice softened, and for a moment Tom saw the girl he had met in a darkened corner of the Leaky Cauldron so many years ago. "Well then, Tom, I order you not to die."

Tom smiled thinly. "I'll try."

He turned and ran.