Aaand, Im back with another CHAPTER! (Well this came after like a year :p )
Tom Riddle had been waiting for a fair few hours, but was quite troubled when the young Potter ceased to wake up. He had gone to check on him a little while ago and was surprised he was still lying in bed.
Harry had looked quite pale, but it would have been a bit rich coming from him. He did after all look to the equivalence of a ghost resting in the back of a fool's head. This thought brought up yet another factor of his irritation.
"Ah, yes. Getting my own body" he recalled. He was planning to break into Gringotts and somehow smuggle the stone away in the dead of night... but that was before a certain 7 year old decided to pop in on his plans. Well- He had been the one to try and capture him in the first place.. but still. A Dark Lord never held any faults-
He heard a sudden rummage in the room next to him and immediately got up from his chair to see what it was. When he stopped in front of the doorway he saw a certain Potter trying to scramble out of his bedside window. Tom Riddle simply stood there with his arms crossed and leaning against the door frame. He had no doubt that the child would simply fall again (which is what he presumed what the sudden sound was).
Then again, Harry was already injured and he didn't want the boy who lived dying from a simple fall rather than his own hands- so the Dark Lord sighed and brandished out his wand, casting a fairly simple spell to transport the 7 year old back to the bed.
"No use trying to escape while your already wounded. You wouldn't last a day", Tom muttered loud enough for Harry to hear. The child simply gave the man a glare and turned his back on him. Tom sighed once again and strode over to the boy, handing him a glass of water he picked up from the bed-side table. "Drink", he ordered. The Potter had been out cold for quite a while and he was sure the boy was dehydrated.
Harry simply "hmph'd", and stuck his nose up in the air. Tom rubbed his temple. Oh how infuriating children can be to deal with. The Dark Lord wasn't having any of this. He was a Lord for heaven's sake.. he deserved more respect than this. Riddle gave a flick of his wrist and Harry was moved to be facing him while still sitting on the bed. The Dark Lord could care less that the child was startled, and shoved the glass to Harry's mouth.
"Drink" - He ordered once again, this time lacing magic with his words.
The child in front of him looked traumatized and shoved Tom away with both his small hands. The shove it self should not have been that strong considering it came from a seven year old boy, but Tom immediately sensed magic.. strong magic being involved, and was suddenly threw across the room crashing into the dresser, reducing it to splinters. The glass in his hand had shattered and water was all over the place mixing with the blood pouring from his arms because of the splinters.
The Dark Lord himself had not felt pain since this had not been his own body, but he had no doubt that Quirrel was in agony at this moment. Tom gracefully stood up, brushing pieces of wood from his robes. He then elegantly exited the room while not saying a word, locking it as he went out.
Harry's P.O.V.
He didn't know what happened- one minute the strange man was looming down on him forcing him to drink something, and another moment he was all the way across the room lying in a pile of wooden chunks and splinters. He had only given him small shove and didn't mean that much harm. Yet he hadn't shown any signs of rage and simply walked out of the room without uttering a single word.
Harry looked down to his hands, afraid of his own power. But that wasn't even the extent of how uneasy he was feeling. All he remembered was blacking out after the man had wanted to take him to the police station and waking up here with his shoulder hurting immensely. He was bandaged up alright, even though he couldn't remember who had done it. The only comfort he had was Nagini who was currently underneath his bed.
She was actually very talkative before the man had barged into the room, but was strangely quite now... He hissed at her that it was safe to come out now. Nagini slithered out from under the bed, still silent.
~whats wrong?~ , Harry asked.
~N-nothing Masster. Nothing you sshould worry about~ , Nagini replied uneasily.
~Come on, tell me!~ Harry whined.
Nagini sighed... or what Harry assumed was a sigh. He didn't know if snakes could sigh-
~You sshould esscape thiss place while you sstill can Master~ Nagini said in a troubled tone.
~W-what?! Why?! Is he someone bad? Tell me!~ Harry said becoming agitated. There were few things Nagini feared back with the Dursleys. She didn't even fear death. Now she was suddenly cautious of this strange man who for some reason was keeping Harry locked up in a room. 'I mean, I guess this is technically kidnapping', Harry thought. But Nagini should be confident of her ability to simply poison him and kill him.
~...~
Meanwhile, the snake had other things on her mind. From the moment Tom Riddle had stepped into the room, despite being in someone else's body, she could still sense her true Master's magic. Over the years, the snake had grown loyal towards her new young Master and wasn't just about to stand by while the Dark Lord carried out with his plan to harm him. In all honestly- she was in a dilemma. Nagini was loyal to both her masters and didn't know which to side with. So instead of physically making a move herself, she instructed Harry to run.
It was most she could do to avoid his death, so she said the one thing which which she hoped her Master would listen.
~You sshould esscape thiss place while you sstill can Master~
And the snake meant it.
Tom Riddle P.O.V.
The Dark Lord was in a troubling situation. His main goal was to kill the young Potter when he got the chance, but now thinking back on it- it was quite a foolish idea. He should have been smarter about the situation and considered Harry's talent before planning to kill him- and rather make use of it. Tom now understood that he could never kill Harry... even if he had wanted to. The child's magic was far to powerful, even at such an early stage.
No... he couldn't just smite this prodigy from existence. It simply went against all his morals. Magical children should be cherished and raised in a right environment where they can grow. An idea rised in his head.
He would raise this child.
Yes. He would raise him as his own. He surely had the potential to be worthy of his son. The wizarding world would just have to wonder where their precious savior went.
The Dark Lord went to bed relaxed that night. He no longer had to worry about some irritating prophecy always on his mind. He had just turned the tables on that old fool's plan. He would have to wait a fair few years, yes. But he simply could not wait to see the expression on his face once he realizes what has come to pass.
Oh how amusing this will be, Albus Dumbledore..
Only a few feet away in the other room, Harry was in an opposite situation, and was far from any means of mental comfort. Nagini hadn't explained anymore on the so called threat in the next room, and it kept Harry awake to what he assumed was about 2 am.
The bed he was provided with was surprisingly soft and comfortable, and he wondered for a short while why his captor would give him such a comfortable setting. After turning his mind on that for a minute, coming up with no reasonable answer, he moved on to thoughts of escaping. For one, his magic was completely useless against escaping. Sure, he could do magic inside the house, but there seemed to be some sort of ward around the manor which prevented him from even exiting the room.
Nagini was fast asleep, underneath the bed once again, so he couldn't exactly consult anything with her. And then, there was another issue which Harry was most troubled with. If he did happen to fall asleep, there was no guarantee that the man would not come into the room and try and kill him. With all of these things running through his head, he decided on one thing.
He would just have to stay awake.
It was easier said than done. With this much of a comfortable bed, it was almost impossible to not doze off now and then. Determined for this night not to be his last, Harry got up from his bed and retreated to the hard wooden floor. There, he sat crossing his legs in a fairly uncomfortable position. 'This ought to do it', he thought to himself. There was no way that he would fall asleep on a cold wooden floor.
Well, there was also the fact that his mouth was dry, not having a single drink of water the whole day. He wasn't exceptionally hungry, as he had gone days without food at the Dursleys. He would say four at most. With all of this Harry managed to stay awake until the early hours of the next day with some light shining through his bedside window.
Harry was confused why no one had come into the room to try and kill him, but he brushed it off as it was none of his concern anymore. It was easier to keep his eyes open since light was streaming down from the window and hitting his face, making it impossible to feel sleepy any longer. Even though his chances of sleep for the day was over, he was still drowsy and barley had any energy left in his limbs.
Harry pushed himself back a little and leaned his back against the wall. His shoulder wasn't hurting anymore, and as he moved around, he couldn't even feel any signs of a wound although he just got stabbed yesterday. Harry assumed it was his fast healing because of his magic, although he hadn't expected it to work on such deep cuts. Since he really had nothing else to do, Harry simply sighed and closed his eyes. He wondered when the would be getting out of here- and what that man was doing now.
...
Tom Riddle woke up how he would wake up on any normal day, despite having the boy who lived in the very room next to him. He was quite refreshed once he washed up and got ready to see what the Potter was doing now. He had planned everything out on how things would go after this.
One, he would have to gain the child's trust which shouldn't be too hard considering Harry was just seven, and in his opinion, children could gain the trust off anyone if they had the right approach. After that... well. He would just have to raise him. How hard could it be?
The Dark Lord casually walked over to the boy's room expecting him to be sound asleep considering it was five in the morning. He was fairly surprised to see Harry on the floor with dark circles under his eyes, and looking exhausted. Once he stepped up to the door frame, Harry eyed him distastefully as if he'd done something wrong. Well, he had brought the child into his house without consent and was sure that it may have been against the law.
What was it called again... ?
It starts with a 'K', I know that-
Ah, yes! 'Kidnapping', that was the term, wasn't it?
He supposed it may have been a tad bit rash, simply taking a portkey to his manor with Harry, but what could he say? From the moment he ran into the child in the streets of London, it stirred a memory that he had long tried to forget. Anybody who had seen James Potter could have said that his child was the spitting image of him. There was no doubt about it. It was hard coming up with a plan on the spot with guilt surging through him remembering the night it had all happened.
See, despite what people say about him, he's not as heartless as he seems. Truthfully, he had never wanted Lily and James dead. Even Dumbledore could vouch for him; he had tried numerous times to bring both of them to his side of the war... but they hadn't even heeded a word. The Dark Lord valued power over blood, and that's where people tend to label him as a murderous blood purist.
Dumbledore had been the one to push that rumor- that manipulative old fool...
He really was the one who brought in death to the war. The Dark Lord had never wanted blood shed; only to define a hierarchy among all witches and wizards. The most powerful at the top, and the weak at the bottom. It might seem a bit heartless, but one way or another.. it's always there. Whether someone would acknowledge it or not. It's how the world runs. And yet everybody blamed him for it. He was always the one getting blamed for everything. And here he was, Harry as well, wordlessly blaming him for his troubles.
'Well, it wasn't my fault you didn't sleep', the Dark Lord thought as he walked toward him.
"Get up and follow me", he said sharply to Harry. Harry looked like he was about to deny, but he suddenly heard a faint hiss from underneath the bed. The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes but said nothing. At the same moment Harry suddenly decided to comply, and promptly stood up- looking more anxious than he had a few seconds ago.
Harry followed the man out of the room to god knows where. He was sure this was going to be his last day to escape before the man decided to make a move. He just hoped he would make it out in time before the unknown threat Nagini had pointed out came for him.