Hello~ I just uploaded the original Chapter 83 (titled 'Locked'), so go check that out ^^


December 1946

Tom also noticed Harry's restlessness.

Perhaps it was inaccurate to put it that way.

Tom's eyes were always drawn to Harry, either staring openly or peeping in secret and before even Harry himself realised, Tom had already begun noticing his mood swings.

Tom continued delivering the cut apple slices to Harry's mouth, watching him chew and swallow dazedly.

"What are you thinking about?" He leaned over and licked the juice from the other's mouth, watching him suddenly come to his senses with satisfaction as a miniature figure of himself made itself present in Harry's irises. He didn't like the hollow look in Harry's eyes. Eyes that couldn't express anything that made him feel as if the other was becoming more indifferent.

Harry's skin was pale due to the lack of sunlight; paired with his pasty complexion, the Saviour who was still in his twenties looked haggard, as if he'd been poisoned. But he was indeed poisoned; poisoned by a ferocious tarantula that had suppressed him under its mouthparts, forcing him flat like a sacrifice, drawing nourishment from his body…

"Tell me what you're worried about. I'll help you, okay?" The youth with jade-black hair grasped the older man's waist, his deep and calm eyes giving off an illusion of dependence and hope.

It was only an illusion after all.

"Let me go, okay? Okay?" As if he'd found a catharsis for his anxiety, Harry grabbed Tom's arms in a death grip and held onto him as if he was his fleeting hope.

Unfortunately, hope was just an illusion.

Tom's sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his forearms flushed red with Harry's grip. But he didn't mind it at all.

"I can help you with anything but this." Tom smiled, indulging Harry, making him tighten his fingers and grip his arms in a painful hold as if he was condoning a child holding a toy axe.

He didn't know if it was because of anger, but something rushed from his chest to the corners of his eyes, causing the areas surrounding his eyes to become red. He could vaguely remember this feeling from when he was still living in the Dursleys' home; he was deliberately left behind by Dudley and Petunia in an unfamiliar vegetable market, and he cried so much both his eyes became terribly red. It's like he was sent back to that time, crying loudly with both fear and weariness, unable to do anything but continue searching.

Helpless, anxious, hesitant…

Was he to be left behind by himself once again? Forgotten? Unappreciated? Unloved?

Flashes of his old life played behind his eyelids at every blink. These feelings overwhelmed him many times. When he watched Sirius sink through the curtain, when he hid under the Astronomy Tower by Dumbledore and watched him fall, when reporter Rita first titled him the 'Saviour or Coward?'...

But he kept on, step by step, through all of it, and although he was bruised all over, he still held his head high.

Harry viciously gritted his teeth, the whites of his eyes stained with bloodshot veins; his emerald eyes were gloomy and weary due to the unhealthy environment he was in, but they were so bright one wouldn't be able to look away.

He had one last method; a method that shouldn't be attempted except when absolutely necessary.

Today, Harry knew, was called for last resort.


Joan didn't know why she wanted to help someone who wasn't even related to her - no - even if they were related, she might've not been so dedicated to helping him. But she was doing it. It might've been because of her six, seven years friendship with him, or maybe it might've been Fate's doing. Fate always managed to find a way to bring deviated history back to the right track, wasn't that so?

"You have to make sure that after we rescue him, Tom would never be able to find him." Malfoy looked at Joan with seriousness, carefully using Occlumency to safely cover his calculative thoughts. "Otherwise Tom would bring him back again."

Joan didn't trust Abraxas Malfoy. As a mutual Slytherin, Joan understood how much he was keeping from her with his words. So she touched the hourglass necklace in her pocket, swallowed down all of her secrets, and glanced coldly at the other party. "I naturally know what to do. You, on the other hand, are 'chatting' with me so openly; are you not afraid of Tom guessing your plans?"

"He places so much of his attention on Harry, he doesn't even have time to observe what his subordinates are planning." Malfoy shrugged helplessly. "So you should understand why I wanted to collaborate with you."

Abraxas lifted a few strands of hair on his forehead that reached his brows; his smile was frivolous yet inexplicably meaningful. "Our Lord truly is too young."

Joan glanced at him, unspeaking.

Malfoy was born a Slytherin, but not every Malfoy was like the one before her right now; with enough terrible schemes and courage to support a big ambition. And such a Malfoy just happened to run into the equally ambitious and powerful Tom Riddle…

The Wizarding World is going to change…

But this wasn't a bad thing; this lifeless and stagnant Wizarding World needed something to catalyze improvements within it. She just hoped that soon after, a group of new forces would rise and replace the current ones.

But right now, she didn't have to heart to worry about that.

"When do we start?" Joan asked.

"This month, on the 31st. It's Tom's birthday that day; many families have lined up to hold a grand banquet for him. Presumably, he doesn't have enough time to care about Harry." Abraxas continued, "I was the one who asked the goblins to build the cave's interior. There's a barrier outside that weakens invaders; after I open the barrier, I may not have enough power to perform the following parts of the plan."

"I understand," Joan nodded, sneering coldly in her heart.

Malfoy may appear to have contributed a lot, but in truth, he left her the most dangerous part of the plan that would provoke Tom the most; as expected of Malfoy!

In this case, she couldn't come unprepared.


December 31 came as scheduled.

Light tried to penetrate the natural barrier to disperse the accumulated darkness within the cave; however, once noon was past, the light was suddenly diluted, swallowed, by the darkness that couldn't tolerate leaving even a little space for it.

There seemed to be only Harry who was alive in this cave, who was carefully protected yet at the same time securely imprisoned.

Today was Tom's birthday, but he didn't plan on spending it with him.

"You're leaving?" After more than a month, he took the initiative to speak again. His jerky voice and the unfamiliar pronunciations made his intonation sound exceptionally abnormal.

The Slytherin, who was fastening his black bow tie in front of the mirror, turned around; like a child who saw a gift, his expression was of pleasant surprise and pure joy. "You spoke, Harry."

He kissed his cheek affectionately, just like a husband going out to work after kissing his wife goodbye. "I'm leaving."

Tom had always been obsessed with creating an atmosphere of peace, happiness and even love; although he clearly knew it was just an illusion, he was pitifully immersed in it, not letting anyone to violently pierce it broken.

Harry grinned; he, too, had also learned how to smile with sarcasm.

This pitiful Slytherin child!

This family seemed to have been cursed.

Members of this family were destined to bear no affections, to abandon all humanity and truths before finally being abandoned by true feelings.

Salazar ran away, giving up on friendship, love and familial affections; Merope pursued love, but found a man who had the heart to leave his pregnant 'wife' and had no sense of responsibility; Morfin was abandoned by his future wife, apart from anger he never had time to experience any other emotions; maybe Tom Riddle had the instinct, but in truth, he didn't have the ability to feel love and could only disdain it.

Harry knew that Tom never acted out of love for him. Instead, he acted out from some sort of unattainable obsession.

(1) Making love occurs when one's amount of love becomes so much, it bleeds out of them and into the other person; of course, an exchange of favors wouldn't go awry. If it benefited both parties, why not?

"I… Can help you celebrate your birthday… Would you like that?" Harry deliberately asked, using his awkward speech to soften his intention almost inaudibly.

"Of course, but you have to wait until evening. Wait until I come back." Tom's eyes curved; his dark eyes were stained with a deep-rooted crimson, making it appear somewhat flirtatious.

He smiled and adjusted his bow tie without the slightest intention to stay, his body emanating ambition and confidence nobody could ignore.

See! Harry smiled.

Before Tom Riddle's ambitious blueprint, before any opportunity that could help him build his reign of darkness, Harry Potter was worthless. What Tom Riddle would always favour, think of, and pursue would forever be, of course, power.

Harry removed his sharp expression; shaking his head with a wry smile, he watched the other leave.

He just wanted to help Tom celebrate his last birthday as he had many years ago; with just a father, cake, candles, and a child. After all, after he returns to 2001 he'd no longer be able to celebrate his birthday.

But… Forget it.

Harry first tried to cut the artery in his neck with a knife.

The enchanted knife twisted in his hands, resisting Harry's attempt as if it was alive. The process of self-harm was extremely long and painful; anyone who had hope for life would not truly try to attempt suicide, not to mention someone like Harry Potter, who had belief and persistence.

Suiciding wasn't an easy task, but there were children in this world who dared to just simply attempt it; to avoid responsibility, pressure and growing up.

Harry couldn't understand; if one had the courage to face the gradual passing of life, then why couldn't they face the ups and downs of the future?

To suicide, Harry couldn't do it; anyone who wanted to live would be incapable of doing it.

A cut had already begun widening on his neck; it wasn't deep enough, and blood hadn't yet spurted out, but his nervous system had already received the pain. His reasoning told him this must be done, but his human instinct for survival urged him to stop.

"You idiot! Stop!" A disarming spell was cast from the void, directly hitting Harry's hands. Under Tom Riddle's powerfully-suppressive magical barrier, the effects of the spell were reduced by half, hence it could only make the knife tremble a little and leave Harry's neck.

Harry stared into the void, surprised.

The air suddenly broke open, a crack tearing open the surface's visual error. Two people appeared before him; by their feet was a shining invisibility cloak that appeared as soft as running water.

"Potter's heirloom; it took me quite some effort to obtain it," Malfoy explained with a shrug after noticing Harry's gaze. "Without it, we would've become the Dementors' dinner outside."

Malfoy and… Joan?

Blood was still dripping down his neck, the bright red liquid rolling over his skin; following it was a chilling coolness.

How is Joan here?

Harry wanted to hold her; he wanted to ask her how she got in, to ask her why she was with Malfoy, to ask her… Whether she was trying to save him.

But Joan immediately stopped his words from escaping. "We can talk after we leave!" As she said this, she picked up the invisibility cloak by her feet and slipped it over Harry.

Leave.

One word abruptly turned Harry's eyes red.

It wasn't from fragility or sensitivity, cowardice or timidness, nor was he crying from gratefulness; instead, he was feeling the excitement and giddiness of hope after a period of extreme despair!

However, at this moment, there wasn't anybody who would press the pause button to let him further reminiscence the touch of life after death.

Fate was moving forwards step-by-step, unstoppable and unchangeable.

Watching Joan wrap the invisibility cloak around Harry and herself, Abraxas Malfoy suddenly grinned; his grey-blue eyes were filled with laughter, their depths unreachable. "Miss Joan, do you want me to pass through the sea of Dementors without the protection of the cloak?"

Harry had owned the invisibility cloak for nine years. It was barely enough to accommodate two adults; to accommodate three adults was almost impossible!

Joan remained silent; however, she was unwavering.

Disagreements and contradictions were cropping up even before their plan had succeeded. Such a thing wasn't uncommon; from Muggles to wizards, from the weak to the strong, it was all just a stage-play. Only united can we conquer everything, even young children can understand this logic; but when facing survival, self-interests and safety, what kind of unity could exist? As bystanders, we can only sigh - this is a human's inferiority!

"In this case, does that mean I can fight for the right to use the invisibility cloak?" Realising Joan didn't have the intention to step back, Abraxas narrowed his eyes and drew out his wand.

"Remove your weapon."

Before Joan could even react, the wand in her hand was thrown out the window; it fell several feet and into the water with a plop, causing the water to splash and the terror hiding in the water to awaken.

Whilst Joan was still in shock, Malfoy's wand shifted and he turned to face Harry, who was holding the invisibility cloak with only his shoulders and above exposed.

Power and light accumulated from the tip of the wand, and the person it was directed at… Was Harry.


(1) Its literal translation was: 'Making love occurs when one's amount of love becomes uncontrollable; of course, it is mutually beneficial for both parties to let go of their lust.'