Harriet knew she was screwed when the force field rose around the property, and even so, the sight of Tom Riddle casually approaching still filled her with terror.
''I can't express the extent of my disappointment, Harry''. He says cynically. The girl backs off and considers whether it's worth running inside. In the end, Potter decides it doesn't matter. There's no getting away. She was stupid to try.
Her lack of response prompts Tom to come closer. Riddle reaches out a hand to touch her damp hair, and when he speaks again, he enunciates each word softly.
''What did I say I would do if you gave me trouble? You can answer, this is not a rhetorical question ''.
Harriet feels her pulse quickening but tries to maintain some dignity. At worst, the Horcrux would have to step in to save her again. That had to serve as a comfort.
''Come on, I'm waiting''.
— You said you'd break my legs and arms - Harry finally replies. She feels like she's about to collapse from stress.
Riddle agrees with a slow nod, and it's clear he's enjoying himself.
''I don't want to, but you are very tiresome, and I have more important things to do than babysat you''.
Potter is used to dealing with threats, but Riddle's way of doing them, stroking her hair and scolding her like a disobedient child, makes the girl shiver. The gears in Harriet's brain are all working again at once, despite trauma and exhaustion. Tom Riddle is crazy, but the girl knows she will have a chance if she can convince him. It all depends on her remaining calm.
— Wait, Riddle! You don't have to do this. I won't try to run away anymore and, it would be unwise to break my legs and arms.
Riddle stops stroking her hair and blinks a few times, intrigued. '' unwise how, Harry?. Clarify for me ''.
The girl swallows hard and ignores the burning in her throat that the bathtub incident left. — Well, you could have done that when you saw my memories. You don't want to hurt me too much.
'' That is all? ''. A frown forms on Tom's face, and he then starts to lead her back to the house without the slightest kindness. Harriet panics again and tries to plant her bare feet on the ground, but her efforts make Riddle laugh.
As if Potter was weightless, he lifts her and throws her body over one of his shoulders.
— WAIT! - Harry yelled, pounding Tom on the back with her fists while trying to hold her glasses in place. — If you break my legs and arms, you're going to have to help me with everything. I will be a burden, and as you said, there are more important things to do.
''That won't be a problem. I'll keep you unconscious''.
Being unconscious and on Riddle's mercy was the worst thing Harriet could imagine at that moment. In an instant, she lost her composure.
— Fuck you, what a threat am I to you without a fucking wand? Look at my damn neck. You almost drowned me.
Potter grabs his blazer the instant Riddle put's her on the ground, already inside the house. Her eyes are cloudy with tears under the lenses of her glasses, but Harry refuses to drop them.
''Don't act like you're not going to run straight into Dumbledore's arms and plot my death with that old coot. I wonder what he would say if he knew that his golden girl is willingly sheltering a piece of Voldemort's soul ''.
Harriet's face paled. If the Dumbledore that knew Potter since she was eleven years old hurled her to her death without hesitation, the girl didn't even want to think about what this Albus would do if he knew about her Horcrux. The girl put a hand to her chest defensively, and Riddle smiled, knowing what she was thinking.
''I'm the only person you can trust, sweetheart. If you run away from here, hopefully, Dumbledore will kill you. The Department of Mysteries, on the other hand, will not offer as much mercy''.
The reality of Harriet's situation hit her like a punch. She was a time traveler, no papers, no connections. If she disappeared, no one would care.
— Shit.
Riddle raised both eyebrows at the girl's crude language but remained silent, letting Harry come to a conclusion on her own. The only thing that occurred to the girl could be both a shot in her own foot or her salvation.
— We can take a vow, but not an unbreakable vow.
Potter might even be desperate, but not that desperate.
''Not an unbreakable vow''. Riddle nodded, promptly pulling out his wand to formalize the agreement between the two.
The result of that was a long vote that covered every clause Tom's paranoid mind could imagine. Harriet agreed not to attack him directly or conspire against him for a period of a year and a month. Riddle took the same oath.
He looked so absurdly satisfied with the spell that Potter began to question if he had fooled her. The superior smile that blossomed on Tom's mouth told her that the Dark Wizard had orchestrated each of those events to extract her vote. The only question that remained was why exactly Riddle wanted her spontaneous collaboration so much.
It was either that or his paranoia was infecting her.
Either way, Riddle interrupted that train of thought by putting his arms around Harriet, cradling her head against his chest before gently kissing her forehead. ''See, dearest?. You are capable of extraordinary feats when you use your brain ''.
Good God. Potter hated it when he did that, but she hated even more that Tom's ironic and manipulative affection was the only one she'd had in a long time. Of course, Harry's friends loved her enough to die defending her, but it was different.
Harriet's friends were always counting on the girl to lead, to come up with a magic solution that would solve all their problems.
Riddle treated the girl condescendingly, but he was the guide on their game, and that was comforting.
Seeming oblivious to his guest's state of mind, Tom made to heal the marks around her neck. Harry freed herself from his embrace.
— I want my wand back - she demanded, without explanation.
Deep down, Potter feared that if the marks disappeared, she would forget Riddle's true nature.
He looked irritated by the demand but didn't object, just disappeared through a door to return a few minutes later, carrying the girl's wand in a box.
When he noticed Harriet's indignant expression that the object had been so close, Riddle smiled. ''Don't be so hard on yourself. You couldn't find it if you knew. Intriguing core, by the way, I want to do some tests later ''.
Potter didn't respond, just picked up her wand and breathed more effortlessly as she felt her magic flow through the object.
'' Did you like your breakfast? ''.
Tom's need to keep a conversation going all the time was starting to get on Harriet's nerves, and when she refused to respond, Riddle's smile faltered.
''Why didn't you eat? ''.
— Silly me. Why didn't I eat breakfast provided by a psychopath who nearly killed me minutes before? I can't find a reason.
'' Glad you've regained your sense of humor. In my defense, you tried to kill me first''.
— Good times - she mutters, feeling cornered as Tom brings the tray and table into the living room with a wave of his wand.
The delicious smell of breakfast hit her nose again. The bastard had probably put charms on the food to keep everything fresh and at the perfect temperature.
''I thought you were less prone to waste, having been starved so many times''. He comments, starting to cut the omelet into meticulously even pieces, like the maniac he is.
With a sigh, Harry ends up joining Riddle. The girl hates these parallels between the two, hates that Tom knows how she feels about many things. Tom Riddle had to go back to an orphanage every summer, just as year after year Potter was sent back to the Dursleys.
In a very emphatic way, Riddle skewers a piece of omelet and takes it to his mouth, eating it to prove he did not poison the food he made for her.
— I'm not hungry - Potter says, and her stomach decides to make her a liar by growling loudly. Riddle arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
''If you don't start eating alone, I'm going to put a feeding tube on you in the painful Muggle way.''
— You can't hurt me, the vow.
''The vow prevents me from harming you. Making you eat is no vile act''.
Sullenly, the girl relents and starts to eat. Tom smiles. '' Good girl ''.
To her displeasure, everything there was delicious. The omelet melted on the tip of Harry's tongue, the treacle tart was crisp, and the syrup on the French toast, astonishing. Potter tastes cinnamon, vanilla, and blueberry and forgets her table manners, which were never very good.
Riddle doesn't seem disgusted by her behavior. The only thing in Tom's expression is recognition because no matter how much Harriet hates him, he had a life as miserable as hers.
''I can bring more''. Tom offers, and the girl shakes her head, placing the empty plate of toast on the tray.
He sighs as if Harry is an annoying brat. '' I cleaned up the mess in Burke's shop and moved the Horcruxes, in case you ever think about trying something stupid again.''
Of course he moved. Potter tries not to resent it, as she was the one to give Riddle all the information that would ensure his victory this time.
'' Don't be a sore loser, Harry''.
Harriet stares at him in disbelief. — This is not wizard chess or gobstones, Riddle. The fate of an entire community, of the whole country, was in my hands, thousands of lives. You can drown me as many times as you like for telling the truth, but your future self is insane. He marked my family based on half a prophecy heard by a double agent and made by an alcoholic and quack seer.
'' Precaution never hurts. Kids can grow up to become headaches. Look at you ''.
— Are you kidding me?. Look at my memories. See what that thing did - Potter says, feeling her face burn with anger, Riddle looks disbelieved, and that ends what little patience she still has.
Harriet rises from her chair too quickly for Tom to react. She uses the Horcrux connection to force him to witness her memories.
Potter shows him Voldemort coming out of the cauldron, his mutilated body, and eyes that give the girl nightmares to this day. Harry makes him see the war, thousands of bodies rotting in the ruins where Hogsmeade used to be.
— You asked me to talk about the future. That's your future and legacy.
Tom staggers back and takes a hand to his nose self-consciously. His eyes are wide with astonishment. ''Maybe seven Horcruxes were too much''.
— Oh, do you think so? - the girl's voice is bordering on hysteria again, and she feels a panic attack trying to surface.
Harry had a simple mission, and even that she could not do right. All the people The girl ever loved have died in her timeline, but now, chances are they won't even be born.
''I can reabsorb them, prevent that from happening''.
— Only remorse can repair a Horcrux. We both know you are incapable of it.
''Dumbledore told you that? I bet he did because that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard ''.
Harriet puts both hands to her head. Her thoughts are so confused she feels like she's going crazy. Riddle tries to touch her, but the girl pushes him away.
— Stay away from me. Don't act as your care. We are not friends.
''Well, I think of you more as a stubborn dog than a friend, but that's okay. Breathe, Harry''.
She doesn't respond. It's like her damn body finally given up on keeping her alive.
''You'll feel better after you sleep.''
— No.
'' I don't recall giving you another option. I need to think, and you distract me ''.
Before the girl has time to react, Riddle struck her with an unknown spell.
It was dark outside the only window when Harriet woke up. Riddle's voice, engaged in a conversation with someone else, invaded the room under the door. The girl blinked a few times but remained on the soft bed. It was impossible to know how long she had slept thanks to Tom's treacherous spell, but on the other hand, good rest had its perks.
Harriet woke up without the exhausting tension in her muscles and without a headache.
With a clearer mind, she finally realized how stupid she had been.
That scheme was doomed to fail from the beginning. That stupid plan came from the mind of a person who had been awake for nearly three days and who had just watched her best friend be torn apart by a squad of Death Eaters.
Without the adrenaline to keep her emotions in the background, Harriet had to curl up into a ball and cover her ears, praying that the echo of the sounds of the last battle at Malfoy Manor would fade.
Waking up was always hard.
She only moved from that position when she felt her bladder would burst if she stayed there for another five minutes. Potter grudgingly got up to use the bathroom and groped aimlessly, first looking for his glasses and then looking for the lavatory door.
Turning the switch up, Harriet realized that Riddle had cleaned the space as the bathroom didn't show the slightest sign of the disastrous incident between her and Riddle.
Potter went to use the bathroom and wash her face afterward.
There was an unused toothbrush in a clear container on the porcelain surface of the sink that made her lips purse. She didn't want to be grateful to Riddle, so she just peeled the thing from the box and used it to clean her teeth.
Upon returning to the bedroom and turning on the light there, the girl was able to see the differences. There was a dressing table in the corner, with a briefcase with what must have been a forties makeup kit, as well as several other cosmetics and an ornate hairbrush. Riddle also added a comfortable-looking white armchair to the furniture in the room. And, when Harriet opened the wardrobe, looking for her old clothes since she was desperate to get out of that dress, she realized that Riddle had filled it with clothes conveniently her size.
Dresses, skirts, blouses, coats. Shoes, bags, belts. Lingerie, nylon stockings.
There was enough stuff to fill the women's section of a department store. Potter snorted and decided to get her revenge using transfiguration. If he thought he could buy her with that crap, he was in for a surprise.
Harry got her hands on a classic high-waisted pleated skirt and transfigured it into black trousers. The beautiful red dress she changed into a button-down shirt with short sleeves. Shoeless, Harriet collapses into the chair behind the dressing table mirror and works with a brush to comb and braid her hair, keeping the wild curls out of her face.
While she wasn't the hideous troll Aunt Petunia wanted her to believe she was, Harriet didn't possess anything too striking either. Not like Parvati, with her coppery skin and bright eyes, or Lavender, who had a delicate nose and easy smile.
Potter was a skinny girl with a scar that looked like glass slashing half of her forehead. Maybe that's why Riddle was so desperate to embellish her with those knick-knacks, but that was his problem alone.
A knock on the door made her get up to answer it. Riddle was on the other side, as was another shorter, older man.
Tom takes a good look at her clothes and bursts out laughing.
''Aren't you a delight? I give you new things, and you insist on looking like a factory worker''.
Harriet cracks a sour smirk and plays his game. — If things are mine, I can do what I want with them.
Riddle's smile turns into something indulgent, but the man accompanying him looks horrified, with Potter's attire and the tone of their conversation.
''This is healer Parkinson. He's going to fix your eyes''.
The girl immediately tensed.
— Nothing is wrong with my eyes - actually, there was, but she also didn't want a man with a Death Eater surname digging into her eyes.
''Don't test the limits of my patience''. That's all Riddle says before leaving them alone.
Harriet grabs her wand as Parkinson approaches, but the man only starts pulling several potions vials out of a briefcase. ''This procedure is quite easy, Miss...''.
Potter frowned. — Riddle didn't say who I am?.
''No, and I didn't ask. If the Dark Lord didn't tell me, it's because I shouldn't know ''.
Harry wanted to slap him, hex him six ways to Sunday for his stupid submission. That passive, incompetent behavior wasn't all that different from the Ministry people, who expected a sixteen-year-old girl to kill the monster they helped rise to power. And she couldn't even blame the Horcrux for the anger she was feeling. She had learned to distinguish her emotions from Voldemort's soul a long time ago.
The girl's common sense decided to keep her mouth shut and not antagonize one of Riddle's minions.
Healer Parkinson offered her an anesthetic potion for the procedure, which Harry vehemently refused. There's no way she would be unconscious in the presence of a Death Eater. At the end of the process, the girl almost regretted not having accepted. She had a feeling that someone had burned her corneas, and Parkinson said the tingling would last for only a few days if she drank the potions at the correct times.
The almost immediate differences in her vision prevented her from complaining, and when the healer left, she found Riddle in the living room, reading a copy of the Daily Prophet. Tom smiled in that annoying way as he put the paper aside.
'' Much better. If I had to look at those glasses one more day, I would have set them on fire. But I don't understand why you haven't done this operation before ''.
— You must be of legal age to have it done. When I came of age, I was on the run. And the mediwitches in the camp had other priorities. Anyway, what exactly did you tell Parkinson?
'' Nothing. I trust Parkinson's as much as I trust anyone, which isn't very much ''.
— The Parkinsons and not the Malfoys?.
Riddle looked pleased that she knew his followers.
''The Malfoys are dangerous, whereas the Parkinsons are more like dogs''.
She wanted to disagree but remembered that Draco was cunning and ruthless when he put his spoiled brat persona aside.
''If you're feeling better, I thought we could go for a walk. You slept for almost two days.''
Harriet suspected but ended up accepting. She couldn't stand to remain inside any longer.
Riddle led her to the outside of the cottage. They were in the same dense forest as before. Noticing her gaze, Tom said he was looking for the lost diadem.
— Good luck - Potter mutters, dodging when he makes a move to take her arm, following some kind of weird forties etiquette code.
''We have a truce. There is no reason to be hostile''.
— You're a racist megalomaniac despite being a half-blood and a psychopath. That's enough for me.
Riddle dismisses her with a disinterested wave of his hand. '' Voldemort, being slightly insane, may care about blood purity, but I don't give a shit. The Purists' cause was useful to me because they were the majority of the population. They held the most powerful positions. Your memories showed me how the population of half-bloods and muggle-borns grew and overruled pureblood families. Many of them will eventually disappear because of the refusal to stain the line. That's not useful in the long run''.
Harriet looks at him without reaction, his words seem too good to be true, and that's why she doesn't believe him. — Of course, now you intend to hold the hands of all Muggleborns and sing a song about inclusion.
Riddle gives her an unimpressed look. ''Muggleborns still need to be taught our traditions and customs, as this is their heritage as well. Don't pretend you love the Ministry and are satisfied with the way things are, Harry. Dumbledore and the others knew exactly how the Dursleys treated you, and yet, they sent you back there summer after summer. I know how it is, I begged them not to send me to London in the middle of the war, but nobody cared ''.
— Don't try the sad orphan boy trick on me. It won't work — the girl responds immediately, trying to mask how much his words made sense to her.
But that's what he does. He says everything you want to hear. When he talks like that, it's easy to understand how a penniless orphan managed to assemble an army. But even though Tom Riddle seems far more reasonable than Voldemort, she knows the two are equally monstrous and capable of horrors.
Instead of answering, Riddle smiles arrogantly.
Harriet was not terrified. If she couldn't kill him, she would make sure he didn't follow in Voldemort's footsteps.