Chapter 3

Revealing Dark

I'm a shapeshifter. What else should I be? Please don't take off my mask. My disguise.…

Harry felt his world shrinking. He looked at Draco and worried frantically as his mind brought him back to their second year, where their friendship began and their dabbling in the dark arts started.

It was mid-April, and Harry just came to the realization of his masks. Or rather, his mask of being different from all the boys. He was thinking of a teacher he used to have when he still went to muggle school. The teacher was named Mr. Locke, and he had a rather fit body that his shirts hugged nicely. Harry did not know why but he always paid attention to Mr. Locke when he taught. It was Mr. Locke, in fact, who saw that Harry barely had lunch. When the other kids brought in sandwiches and fruits and cookies, all Harry brought was a couple of stale pieces of bread. So, Mr. Locke would bring in extra food and, like no big deal, handed out food to the class, Harry always getting a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or a big juicy apple and some sweats while the other kids got just the sweats. That only made Harry like him more. Was he my first crush? Harry wondered. Can I have a crush like that at ten years old?

"Hey Potter, deciding who you'll turn to stone next?" a voice sneered behind him. Harry wasn't good at putting up his masks at this point. He turned and stared at Draco with a cold expressionless face.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy," he said.

Instead of sneering back, Draco just stared at him. "Potter… are, are you okay?" he asked. The question shocked Harry. Was he okay? He didn't really know. Ron and Hermione never asked that they just went along with every trouble that came their way. He stared at Draco and shook his head. "I'm not," he whispered.

Draco stared at Harry for a moment and, as though he made a decision, held out his hand. "Come with me," he said confidently.

Harry stared at the hand for a moment. He felt his cheeks blush softly and his heart raced as he took a breath and reach out towards Draco. Their hands interlocked and held on tightly as Draco pulled Harry to his feet. Draco smiled brightly at Harry and never let go of his hand. "Ready?" he asked. Harry nodded and Draco pulled him along, moving through secret passages and stairways that Harry did not know about. They reached a corridor on the seventh floor. The two walked through the corridor three times until a door appeared and they walked inside.

It was a simple room with two blank easels. Draco grinned at Harry and pulled him gently inside. Harry looked around the room, very impressed and awe-stricken. "Where are we?" he asked.

"A secret room I found last year," Draco said. "This is where I go where I want to be alone, where I want to paint," he pointed at the easel, "and do something else." His cheeks started to blush, and the young Malfoy heir took a breath. "You know that there are Dark magic that aren't illegal?" he asked.

"What?"

"Just listen, we actually are taught a lot of dark magic here in Hogwarts," he said. "They're just not illegal while others are. Sometimes when I get really frustrated or I have so much emotion I'm going to explode, I come in here and yell out every dark jinx and hex I know before I feel calm enough to paint the rest away."

"You want me to use dark magic!?" Harry gasped.

"And paint," Draco nodded. Harry frowned. He looked at the two easels. "I… I don't know how," he admitted.

"It's okay, I'll teach you," Draco said. "Here, we can be just us, you know, just Harry and Draco. I really do want to be your friend Harry, I just got really jealous when you picked Weasley over me."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, thinking that was what Draco to hear. Draco stared at him. "Are you?" he asked.

"I—I'm not sure," Harry admitted. "I don't know how to act at times. In order to feel better, I use masks," he admitted. "Masks that I make based on how I think others expect me to feel."

"Oh," Draco said, not fully understanding. He gave Harry a smile, "Then we'll shout out our best jinxes and then I can teach you how to paint your masks." And so they did. The two spent half an hour yelling out any jinx they could think of, and Harry would admit that he felt a sort of rush that made him feel good. Afterward, the two sat down and Draco taught Harry how to paint. His first mask was very simple and not very defined. Just a gold and red mask that wasn't evenly proportioned even though the boys did their best.

Harry just stared at the finished project, his face blank. Draco thought that Harry wasn't happy with it. He placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and said, "It's okay," he said. "You'll get better with practice."

Harry shook his head, "No," he said. "I like it. Thank you Draco," he looked at Draco and smiled, "can we come back here again?"

"Of course Harry," Draco said and just like that, a friendship began along with Harry's habit of painting, his consciousness of his masks, and a curious examination into the Dark Arts.

"You do not need to answer me now," Tom hissed, snapping Harry back to the present day. The Gryffindor looked at Tom and something shifted in him. He did not know why, but he felt that the Tom Riddle was not the Tom from the Diary or Voldemort. "No," he said, "No I'm sorry, I just was thinking."

He looked towards Draco and said in English, "I started my look into the Dark Arts the same day my friendship with Draco began," he said.

"Interesting," Tom hummed. He smiled at Harry, "Thank you for trusting me with this," he said.

"You won't tell anyone, of course," Blaise said, "right, Riddle?"

"And be a hypocrite? Of course not," Tom Riddle said. He crossed his legs and said smoothly, "I too dabble in the Dark Arts, the illegal kind of course, as well as the legal and in-between. Everything my aunt and uncle taught me."

"How, how much?" Harry asked, a little scared. Tom smiled, "Nothing purely illegal, mind you. I cannot do the Unforgivable Curses, and still am a little afraid, however, I was taught that Parseltongue can have an effect on our magic."

"It can?" Harry gasped.

"Yes, I've seen it myself," Tom nodded, remembering the book he managed to sneak out of the Chamber yesterday. He spent all night devouring any and all information he could in that time. Hopefully, it is still in his robe pocket. He brought his hand to it and smiled when he felt a bulge. "I'm still researching it of course, but if you want, I can teach you, Harry," he offered. "It might help you with the Triwizard Tournament.

Harry stared at Tom. He was still suspicious, still fearful, and yet he felt relaxed. The others were relaxed, and he knew that Draco would never let anything horrible happen to him. And he wanted to survive. There was only so much that he can do by himself. Perhaps he could form a new mask? A mask for Tom Riddle. That sounds good. A mask for what he wants to see, but what that is, Harry did not know yet. Only time will tell. But until then… he nodded. "I would like that," he said softly.

"Excellent, then I'll teach you once I've learned," Tom smiled politely. "Keep me updated on the tasks and what they want you to do, understand Harry?"

Harry nodded and Tom offered his hand. "I know you must be comparing me to Voldemort; however I want you to know you have nothing to worry about. I am nothing like that old Dark Wizard," he hissed, glancing at the others. "I do not know why I am here, or how, but I am determined to make the most of it, shall we try a friendship, Harry?"

"Okay," Harry hissed softly, and he shook Tom's hand. A satisfied grin grew on Tom's face. He held Harry's hand tight and stared into Harry's eyes as he refused to let go. Harry felt Tom's gaze piercing him. Like before he felt his masks sliding off as Tom looked through them, and just as before it terrified the young teen. He pulled to let go but Tom kept holding his hand until he was satisfied. "It's such a shame you're in Gryffindor," Tom hummed. "You looked like you truly belong here, Harry."

"Well, I'm supposed to," Harry said, a confident look replacing his shock. "The hat wanted me to go to Slytherin, but I told it no and choose Gryffindor."

"Is that so?" Tom chuckled, "a pity. Then I suppose you have to run away back to the lions soon?"

"Yeah, I should," Harry sighed. "Ron and Hermione get worried when I'm away for a long time."

"Then run away Harry, we'll talk later," Tom said, finally letting go of Harry's hand.

"Y-Yeah," Harry nodded. He glanced at his hand and looked at Draco and the others. "Uhh, I'll see you guys later."

"Bye Harry," Blaise grinned. "Have fun with the lions."

"Be careful," Draco said sincerely. Harry nodded and waved silently to Theo who waved goodbye back. The four Slytherins watched Harry leave and Tom sat down back in his seat. He looked at the others.

"Harry is gay," he stated.

Draco, Blaise, and Theo glanced at each other, looking unsure about how to respond. Draco sat up and looked protective as he glared at Tom, "Not that it's your business Riddle, but yeah he is," he said. "What about it?"

Tom smiled, "Relax Malfoy, I told you three before that I am not a hypocrite. I personally wanted to know if Harry and I, to use a crude phrase, swung the same way." He smirked at their confused look and decided to elaborate. "I'm gay myself and find Harry very attractive," Tom said simply. "I was just wondering about his current… relationship."

"He's single," Draco answered shortly. "But if you try to hurt your feelings, you'll have me to deal with."

"Naturally, and I promise I won't hurt his feelings," Tom said. He looked at the door and hummed, "I mean, we only just met, it's only proper if we become friends first. Which I hope happens between us, friendship."

"Uh, yeah," Blaise said, glancing between the others. Tom just smiled politely and leaned back, "So," he said. "What should I know about our professors?"

Harry walked slowly back to Gryffindor Tower. He took deep breaths as he worked over what happened in Slytherin Common room and slipped on his mask. Tom Riddle, the same boy from the diary, the same boy who turned into Lord Voldemort, is somehow here looking fourteen. He seemed to be just as confused as Harry was, especially because he didn't know anything about the Chamber of Secrets or the diary. Can I trust him? The thought run through as he thought about Tom. Is he trustworthy? That was something that he could not figure out. Something that he needed to find out, and to do so, Harry felt like he was throwing himself into danger. But still, if it ended with him learning to better handle himself, maybe in the end he will survive. But first, he had to return to his other friends, the friends who only knew his masks.

Harry the Gryffindor. Harry the lion. Harry the leader. Harry the hero. One by one, Harry slipped his masks on, and a smile appeared on his face. He was happy, yes, hanging out with Draco always leave him feeling happy, but it was a different happiness that he showed. The Gryffindors expected him to be happy that he became a Champion, and so he must smile.

Ron, predictably, did not even talk to Harry as he walked in. Harry felt horrible but he did not know how to fix Ron's jealousy. The rest of the day went by, and Harry only hoped that, somehow, things would improve soon as everyone gets used to the idea of him being champion.

However, he soon found himself wrong. He could no longer avoid the rest of the school once he was back at lessons—and it was clear that the rest of the school, just like the Gryffindors, thought Harry had entered himself for the tournament. Unlike the Gryffindors, however, they did not seem impressed.

The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold toward the whole lot of them. It was plain to see that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry had stolen their champion's glory; a feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Hufflepuff House very rarely got any glory, and that Cedric was one of the few who had ever got any, having beaten Gryffindor once at Quidditch. During one Herbology lesson, Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchey, who Harry was usually on good terms with, did not talk to him even though they were reporting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray—though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grip and smacked him hard in the face. Ron wasn't talking with Harry either, Hermione sat between them, making very forced conversation, but though both answered her normally, they avoided making eye contact with each other. Harry was at a loss on how to deal with this, he was angry at Ron and hurt but yet he did not dare break out or burst at him. If this was how Ron wanted him to act, then he will act that way.

The only saving grace, strangely enough, was Tom. Watching Tom adjust to classes and charm their professors made Harry feel strange. He almost wanted to go and sit with him more, talk with him and the other Slytherins but knew that he couldn't. The others would hate him even more, though it broke his heart. At least he and Draco had their paint room. Draco… one of the disadvantages of having his secret friendship with the Slytherins was that he couldn't go to them for comfort. They all had their acts to play, and while Slytherin House, in general, has accepted him, they all knew that outside, they had to act the same as ever: The Villainous Snakes taking on the lone Courageous Lions. It was horrible, Harry hated playing those roles, and with Tom added to the mix, it made it all the more difficult. During that week, Harry made sure to find Tom, to explain to him why they had to act the way they did, the pressures every had on him. Tom just smiled politely and nodded along before chuckling.

"Harry, I'm getting a sense that you are living not for yourself, but for them," he said with a knowing smirk.

"N-No I'm not," Harry tried to argue but Tom went on.

"You are Harry, I have a feeling I know you better than anyone here, and it is not even Friday," Tom said. "You try to please everyone, wearing masks that fit their expectations and mood. Even now, I can see the tell signs that you are wearing them. I want to know two things, my new friend. Why? And How many?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "It's easier this way," he muttered. "It's easier to just wear my masks and act how they expect me to, even though it scares me, even though I sometimes don't want to… I find I can't stop. As for how many, I've lost count."

Tom sighed. He reached for Harry's hand and pulled him along the corridor, never letting go as they talked. "I know how hard it is to take off your masks, we're both wearing them now. I don't want to go into personal details yet, my new friend, however, Harry, I wish that you truly know that I understand completely where you are coming from. No child our age should have so many masks. I will not ask that you take them all off for me, however, instead, I would ask that you make another mask, a new mask."

"You want me to hide more?" Harry asked, confused.

"Not hide, but make a reflection of yourself, your true self, that you feel comfortable wearing," Tom explained. "You are resourceful, cunning, and quite attractive. Make a mask for me Harry, let me into you, and I will construct a mask for you as well."

Harry did not know how to respond but he found himself nodded. Tom smiled and shocked Harry once more by kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Harry Potter," he purred. "Now, how about you and I head to the library, and work on some of our annoying homework?"

"But the others—"

"Do not matter," Tom said smoothly, "I want to spend time with my new friend, and I do not care at all what others will think of me because of it. Why should you?" Harry did not have an answer. It was difficult being with Tom, he was always left speechless and off-centered. And yet, he also liked it. It was strange, here was a young Voldemort, and yet Harry found himself slowly wanting to spend time with his new friend. A friend like Draco, who knows about his masks and yet he was the only one who can see through them, and that still terrified Harry. But it also excited him.

"Tom, there's something you need to know," he said softly as they made their way to the library, Tom still holding Harry's hand.

"Hmm?"

"I… I don't know who I am," he admitted. "When I look in the mirror sometimes, I don't recognize myself. And when I do, it scares me."

Tom smiled at that, "Then we will work to conquer the mirror."

"One more thing," Harry said, his voice growing small. "Please, don't take away my masks completely."

"Of course not, my new friend," Tom said. He glanced around and hissed out, "I promise that I will never do anything you are uncomfortable with, anything you do not want consciously or unconsciously."

"Thank you."

Just as Tom said, the two boys went to the library to work on a few assignments. Students obviously stared at them, and Harry's cheeks turned red from the glares and curious looks, however, he found himself sturdy with Tom around. They went to a secluded corner of the library and worked diligently for almost two hours. By the time they were done, Tom asked, "Harry do you know if Hogwarts' library has muggle books?"

"I actually do not know," Harry muttered. Why would he need that?

"I will go and ask," Tom said standing up. He returned looking sadden not even five minutes later. "No, it does not," he hummed. "Shame."

"What were you looking for?" Harry asked.

"A collection of works," Tom shrugged. "It might help us both, and I am rather a fan of the gothic genre, both general and romantic." He thought for a moment, "I will have to ask around then," he said.

"Hermione might help," Harry said, "She's always reading a book maybe she knows?"

"That would be lovely, would you introduce me to her tomorrow?" Tom asked.

"Sure," Harry nodded. Satisfied, the two made their separate ways and Harry found himself in the Gryffindor Common Room once more, his mind on Tom.

A new mask, one just for him, Harry thought. How would such a mask look? He looked around, nobody was talking with him or even noticing him tucked away in the corner. So, feeling a little bold, Harry pulled out a notebook and turned to a clear page. He stayed huddle towards himself as he pulled out a muggle pencil and began to sketch, openly in secret for the first time. A mask for Tom, that is what he will make. But how will it look? Full-faced or half? If it's half, will it be the top half? Or one of the sides? Thoughts swirled in his head, and Harry found that his hand moved automatically. Will he be sly and cunning? Courageous or bashful? Terrified or excited? Harry felt a rush of emotions that he barely felt before, and he found himself almost smiling as he sketched. However, every now and again he would glance up around him and remember where he was and his smiling and good feelings would disappear, all covered up by his masks.

A/N: Books and Dark Magic! The best thing to start a relationship on! Please review!