Hi!
Previously: Harry is bored and depressed. Harry finds the Resurrection Stone in his pocket. Harry accidentally summons Tom Riddle.
Of Smoke and Stone
chapter 2: dark inside
Harry's first articulated thought was that, contrary to the Resurrection Stone - which had stayed the same - Lord Voldemort didn't look anything at all like the last time they met. He was now made of thick white smoke, and obviously this was a new and absolutely weird feature, but it wasn't the most disconcerting thing about him.
In there words, he was young. So young. Younger than Harry, even. No beard nor fluff on his chin, no shoulder span, no wrinkles, no lines of any sort, and some freshness, some very soft je-ne-sais-quoi betraying a tender age.
Harry knew that if the shade had been of flesh and bones, it would have jet black hair, dark brown eyes and a green and silver uniform. For the specter before him wasn't baldy, red-eyed, angry and dry, snake-face Voldemort.
No, it was the shade of the handsome and mysterious boy Harry had met in the Chamber of Secrets, many years ago. This was indeed Tom Marvolo Riddle.
When Harry was twelve, Tom Riddle's sixteen years old diary memory seemed much older than himself, almost an adult. Now, Harry saw him in a different light. The pale, almost solid shade in front of him was just a boy.
"Why are you so young?" the Gryffindor whispered, upset and surprised. "No, forget that, why are you fucking here?"
"I ... I know what you know … Harry Potter," answered Tom, his voice hoarse and hesitant. "In fact, I may know less."
Harry frowned, noticing just then how subdued the shade had been since it had appeared. It seemed utterly lost and confused, looking around, gazing at its translucent hands, at Harry, at the fireplace. It had no idea what was happening.
"You were dead, and I brought you back with the Resurrection Stone," Harry explained. "I didn't mean to, obviously. And now, I'm going to throw this fucking rock away and pretend that this," he gestured at Tom's whole being, "never took place."
xXx
"Wait, Harry Potter. I command you to wait!"
Harry didn't stop. He was hurtling down the stairs, skipping steps where he could, not caring about the people who were staring at him curiously. They were probably wondering why he wasn't all numb and spaced out, for once.
"Harry Potter! Stasis! Stupefy! Avada Kedavra! You stupid, half-blood boy, turn around. I'm going to kill you. I said, turn around!"
Harry kept racing through the castle, not looking back at the invisible ghost, not listening to its empty threats. The shade had no choice than following him - after all, it was bounded to the Stone.
When he passed the Double Doors and came in the courtyard, Harry finally slowed down.
"You out of breath, boy?" said the shade in a cold tone.
Harry didn't bother in saying he was less a boy than Tom himself. The truth was he was actually a bit breathless.
He walked quietly towards the Forest, tuning out of Tom's messy thread of threats, failed spells and curses, swears, lamentations, deep silences and unintelligible screams. However, he couldn't totally shut the shade out and still heard bits and pieces here and there.
"... don't even know how powerful I am ... just a foolish idiotic boy ... You think you can bring me back and send me out immediately? The Stone was mine, I claimed it, a part of my great soul lived inside it for years."
"And Dumbledore destroyed it," Harry calmly entered the Dark Forest. "Now, keep quiet or ..." As he had no idea how to finish this sentence, he didn't. "You're not a Horcrux, do you even know that? You're just a ... shade. The Resurrection Stone is one of the Deathly Hallows, it's got the power to conjure the deceased. It's not the receptacle of a dark and mutilated piece of soul anymore. And you never suspected how unique and precious this artifact was, did you? You soiled it with your sad and disgusting Magic."
"Who knew Harry Potter had such vocabulary," snarled Voldemort. "And who knew Lord Voldemort would have to beg a boy for his life."
"I'm not a boy and you don't have a life to beg for," Harry said flatly. "Here we are, do you recognize the clearing, Tom? I'll just leave the Stone -"
"No. Please, Harry, don't."
xXx
Tom's white shade was an inch from Harry, his ghostly eyes open and earnest. Harry had to remind himself this was Lord Voldemort, the man who had killed his parents and his friends.
"You disgust me," Harry said, turning his head from the shade. "Even dead you can't leave me alone, can you?"
Tom sighed.
"I don't expect you to understand. You're young and stupid -"
"You already said."
"- but I went to Hell and I came back, Harry Potter. If you thi-"
"Good for you, should have bloody stayed there!"
"You invoked me. You called me. I was suffering, I was going mad in my jail of-"
"Shut up! I don't want to hear more!"
Harry opened his clammy fist. The Stone was now uncomfortably hot in his hand, shining under the moonlight, too beautiful to be trusted. Why didn't it bring back his parents? Why didn't it give him fucking Snape or even ... even soddy Peter Pettigrew?
"I'll leave the Hallow here and you'll go back to where you were," Harry decided. "And I hope you suffer until the end of time and even after."
He found a hollow tree and threw the Resurrection Stone inside it. The shade immediately vanished into thin air, leaving Harry by himself. The Gryffindor came back to the castle, wishing he could also disappear, as light, as innocuous as a puff of smoke.
To be continued
Thank you for reading!