The Houses Competition Round Eight
House: Gryffindor
Class: Herbology
Drabble
Prompt: [Speech] "Wait here, I'll be back."
Word Count: 993 (wordcounter .net)
When Tom was five, Harry showed up for the first time. Tom had been the closest to loneliness he could be, meaning irked that winter was coming, thus bringing with it the loss of snakes in the garden. And there was the worsening hunger that always came in winter too, the growing bite in the air, as his worn clothing stopped blocking out the growing chill.
So he was irate and bitter and hungry, and had no one to complain to, without the snakes.
And Harry appeared like the fog itself, stepping from the white clouds like a dream, looking around with curiosity and, Tom hadn't noticed it at the time, but perhaps a bit of confusion too.
Tom does remember Harry's expression when he first saw him. A bit of relief, but also…. horror? Revulsion? Harry looked like Tom was just who he was looking for, and like he wasn't sure what to do with that fact.
He knew Tom's name, greeted him by it. Tom thought maybe he was his father. They both had dark hair, thin noses, the same heart shaped face. But Harry's skin was darker, and his eyes green, not reddish-brown. And when he tried to hint the question, suggesting that his father may someday come back for him, Harry shook his head.
"No. He will never come back." He muttered, and Tom desperately wished to know how he knew this. How he knew Tom, or anything about him. He'd known his name, where to find him, given him food he liked, and spoke to him like he was a grown up too, like they'd already met. "But I promise that I will."
And he had. A whole five months later. Tom had started thinking Harry was a dream, and then he showed up in the shadows, brioche in a paper bag in his hand.
If Harry said he'd do something, Tom realised for the first time in his life - he actually would. He wasn't just another adult with empty words. Tom's belly was full of empty words, but Harry brought him treats each time and said he would return, and Harry actually would.
"I'll take you with me." Harry promised when Tom was nine, eating ice cream for the first time. "We'll live together. Soon."
Tom waited, and as usual, the promise came true. Harry lived in a tiny house in London, definitely not the mansion Tom had immediately pictured when he first thought of living with Harry, but Tom was fed three meals a day and Harry brought him books and never took him to church. His clothing was meant only for him, and the snakes in this garden were just as friendly. And he had Harry, which was the most important part.
Harry kept his promises. Harry was useful.
Harry was not his father, but Harry was his.
Harry told him about magic when he came to live with him. He showed it to him. Tom saw it performed like second nature. Harry moved his fingers, and tea made itself. He waved his wand, and broken things were fixed. He met Tom's eyes, and whispered to the snakes.
Tom craved the magic that Harry did. He hungered. He broke more things just so Harry would fix them, and begged to see spells, no matter how mundane.
He nearly ripped his Hogwarts letter in half opening it.
"You'll love Hogwarts. I promise." Harry told him, as if Tom didn't already know that, didn't already have plans. He absorbed his school books in an endless quest for more magic, and watched the way Harry's hand moved when he cast spells.
Harry sent him a whole letter saying how stunned he was when Tom went to Ravenclaw. Tom didn't get it. He'd always pursued knowledge of many things. And sometimes when Harry talked about Slytherin he seemed… cautious. Tom didn't want to risk getting mixed up in that. Not when he had Harry just as obsessed with him as he was with Harry.
Harry kept his promises to Tom. That had to mean something. Tom had to mean something.
The muggle world was weird, after Hogwarts. But Harry refused to leave London. And Tom didn't mind. He rarely left the house anyways. There was no point paying any attention when the muggle world had already once betrayed him.
He fluctuated between home and Hogwarts. School and holiday breaks. Hogwarts was a wonder, and as Harry had promised, Tom adored it. The library was endless, and his classmates would discuss anything. Even forbidden things.
All was fair in the pursuit of knowledge, after all.
And home was no expectations, no distractions, and most importantly, home was Harry. Harry brought him books and treats and gentle, quick affection, as though he was afraid to break him. Which was silly. Tom could not be broken. He'd proven that when he did not die as a baby.
But Harry treated him like something precious that he'd never expected to find, and Tom folded in his embrace like paper.
And the bombs came a bit unexpectedly.
Tom wasn't actually sure what bombs were at first, truthfully. But he found out when they started coming.
And then kept coming.
And coming.
Tom looked out the window, and saw rubble down the street. He walked out in the yard, and there were no snakes. He listened to Harry's radio, and heard reporters breaking down in tears.
But they were safe. Harry had cast spells. And Harry's spells would protect them.
Until they didn't.
Tom was almost as tall as Harry was, but Harry scooped him up like a toddler as the living room exploded. Shoved him out of the house, into the yard, into a shed that Tom had never noticed before.
"Wait here, I'll be back." Harry yelled over the screams of London dying all around them. "I promise."
And that was the first and last promise Harry ever broke to Tom Riddle.