Author's Note: Thanks to everyone -- With recognition to Basilisk (Whom I'm
sure I torment by not updating often enough) -- Thanks for supporting this
piece! And sorry everyone for the slash cliffhanger ending . . . I'll
update it tomorrow
Chapter Eleven -- The Binding Ceremony
Harry stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing his appearance. He was wearing the light blue robe and his hair was casually brushed over his eyes. He glanced over at the calendar. July 31st -- The binding ceremony and . . . "Happy Sweet Sixteen," Harry said to himself, trying to smile. There was a knock on the door and Dumbledore announced merrily: "My dear boy, we cannot wait forever!" Harry sighed, wishing that they could wait forever. This was it -- The moment of truth, the end of his life as he knew it.
"Well Potter," he said, staring at the reflection in the mirror. "Here we go."
Harry walked briskly out of his room and down the stairs to the Great Hall. Tom was standing outside the double doors, looking exceptionally nervous. Harry smiled. A brief glimpse of humanity in the extremely inhumane Tom Riddle?
"Ready?" Harry asked, trying his best to be amiable.
Tom turned around to look at Harry and his eyes seemed to brighten just a little.
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he smiled. "That pretty much means that I'm not ready at all."
"I'm glad to see we have something is common," Harry said, teetering on the edge of a smile himself. "Well, we can't keep Dumbledore waiting then."
"I suppose not."
Both of them just stood there, staring at each other, for what seemed like hours.
"Tom, Harry!" the call came from inside the Great Hall. Dumbledore was growing a bit impatient.
Harry and Tom glanced at each other awkwardly.
"This is it then," Tom said quietly. "If you want, you can go first."
Harry nodded grimly and opened the large double doors. Dumbledore had obviously worked some enchantments on the Great Hall that morning. The banners had been removed (Tom, the true Slytherin, would have been annoyed with the Gryffindor banners being hung) and lighted candles had been put up in their stead, with light blue and white ribbons streaming from them. White bouquets of flowers sat in the middle of each table, smelling enchanting but making Harry Potter nervous all the same. "God," he thought to himself. "Dumbledore completely overdid it. I feel like I'm going through a wedding." He flinched. He didn't want to think of this ceremony in that light. Dumbledore was trying to make this a romantic occasion -- Probably trying to compensate for the fact that Harry would never have another relationship. Instead of making Harry joyful, it was simply making Harry ill.
Tom followed quickly behind Harry and noticed the sudden hesitation in the young boy. He walked up beside him, grabbed his hand, and gave it a tight squeeze. Harry practically jumped backwards. "What are you doing?" he hissed. Tom just smiled comfortingly at him and held onto his hand, despite any protests.
The two of them reached the front of the Great Hall, where Dumbledore was standing.
"Are you two both ready then?"
Tom and Harry both smiled, though not at each other.
"I will begin. Modus una. Numquam solum. Continuus."
"Is this odd to you?" Harry whispered to Tom.
"What?" Tom asked, looking up to make sure that Dumbledore wouldn't notice them talking during the binding ceremony. Dumbledore was too preoccupied with repeating the scripture -- eyes closed, hands raised -- that he wouldn't have noticed if both Harry and Tom had gotten up and left.
"This whole binding ceremony thing. It seems too . . . I don't know."
"Like a Muggle wedding," Tom said, distastefully.
"Yes!" Harry exclaimed. Tom signaled for him to be quiet and Harry automatically shut his mouth, looking up at Dumbledore. No, the headmaster hadn't heard a word.
"I think Dumbledore's trying to make you happy," Tom said softly.
"This isn't making me happy," Harry scoffed.
"You know that and I know that . . . But he obviously doesn't."
"Being bound . . ." Harry said, cringing at what he was about to say. "Is being bound like getting married?"
Tom thought for a few moments before responding.
"In a lot of ways, it is. There's the romantic implication, there's the complete and utter devotion to one another, there's the commitment to stay together until death . . . In a lot of ways it's not at all like getting married."
"How is it not like getting married?" Harry asked hopefully.
"Because divorce usually follows marriage," Tom snickered. "With binding, there is no divorce."
Harry smiled a little at that but the foreboding reference to being bound together for life sort of ruined the joke. Nonetheless, Harry had to admire the fact that Tom could joke around during a time like this -- A time when both of their lives had been thrown into turmoil. "God," Harry thought to himself. "Do I even know you, Harry James Potter? Finding admirable traits in Lord Voldemort?" Harry looked at Tom who was, in turn, looking at Dumbledore who was getting really wrapped up in the entire ceremony. "No," Harry thought to himself. "Not Lord Voldemort. Admit it, you stopped thinking of him as Lord Voldemort quite a while ago. He's just . . . Tom Riddle. Just former Hogwarts student Tom Riddle . . . And he's not so bad."
"Ingressio amor. Prodigus amor. Obligatus amor." Dumbledore smiled and handed Harry a small gold band. "Oh great," Harry thought. "He's got the rings and everything. Talk about a Muggle wedding ceremony!" Harry looked at Tom, wondering if he was also in possession of a ring. Sure enough, a matching gold band was on his fourth finger.
"Reus." Dumbledore said, lifting his hands over Tom and Harry. The room began getting misty and soon Tom and Harry couldn't see each other anymore. Harry stood there, gripped in anticipation for about five minutes before the fog started to die down. He tried to slip the ring around on his finger but found that it was tightly locked in place. That would have sent him into a state of blind panic except for the fact that Tom quickly reached out and grabbed his hand again, trying to comfort and console.
"That was splendid," Dumbledore said sentimentally. "The binding ceremony is complete."
The binding ceremony is complete. Harry began to sway on his feet and little and soon, the Great Hall, Dumbledore, and Tom Riddle all disappeared into darkness.
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Harry's eyes batted open and the entire world was out of focus. "I don't have my glasses," Harry thought to himself. He felt someone stroking his hair and, looking at the outline of the individual, guessed that it was Tom Riddle.
"You awake?" the individual asked.
Yes, definitely Tom Riddle.
"Yeah," Harry said, sitting up in the bed. "Can I have my glasses, please?"
Tom handed Harry the glasses. When he put them on, he was greeted by a spacious chamber -- Far nicer than any of the ones in the student dormitories. In fact, to his knowledge, it was far better than most of the ones that the teachers resided in.
"Lovely room," Harry commented, looking around.
"I know," Tom said. "Not bad. Move over, will you?"
Harry, on instinct, moved over. Tom quickly crawled into the bed next to Harry who bolted up in shock.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Harry shouted. "This is my bed! You need to get out of it right now!"
"Look around," Tom laughed. "There's only one bed."
"Oh god," Harry moaned. "You've got to be kidding me! Only one bed?"
"Yes," Tom replied. "Looks like we're going to have to share."
"No!" Harry exclaimed. "I'd rather sleep on the floor!"
"Suit yourself," Tom smiled. Harry looked down and realized that the floor was hardwood without a rug in sight.
"Forget that," Harry grumbled. He had classes and tests and lessons . . . He couldn't go every night without sleep thanks to the hard-as-a-rock floor. Harry looked over at Tom, ready to demand that he sleep on the floor. He noticed that Tom was gazing at him in a peculiar manner, akin to the way Tom had looked at him in his chambers when he had been wearing the light blue robe. Harry began backing up frantically against the bedposts as Tom began edging forward.
"Oh no," Harry thought to himself. "What's he doing now?"
Chapter Eleven -- The Binding Ceremony
Harry stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing his appearance. He was wearing the light blue robe and his hair was casually brushed over his eyes. He glanced over at the calendar. July 31st -- The binding ceremony and . . . "Happy Sweet Sixteen," Harry said to himself, trying to smile. There was a knock on the door and Dumbledore announced merrily: "My dear boy, we cannot wait forever!" Harry sighed, wishing that they could wait forever. This was it -- The moment of truth, the end of his life as he knew it.
"Well Potter," he said, staring at the reflection in the mirror. "Here we go."
Harry walked briskly out of his room and down the stairs to the Great Hall. Tom was standing outside the double doors, looking exceptionally nervous. Harry smiled. A brief glimpse of humanity in the extremely inhumane Tom Riddle?
"Ready?" Harry asked, trying his best to be amiable.
Tom turned around to look at Harry and his eyes seemed to brighten just a little.
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he smiled. "That pretty much means that I'm not ready at all."
"I'm glad to see we have something is common," Harry said, teetering on the edge of a smile himself. "Well, we can't keep Dumbledore waiting then."
"I suppose not."
Both of them just stood there, staring at each other, for what seemed like hours.
"Tom, Harry!" the call came from inside the Great Hall. Dumbledore was growing a bit impatient.
Harry and Tom glanced at each other awkwardly.
"This is it then," Tom said quietly. "If you want, you can go first."
Harry nodded grimly and opened the large double doors. Dumbledore had obviously worked some enchantments on the Great Hall that morning. The banners had been removed (Tom, the true Slytherin, would have been annoyed with the Gryffindor banners being hung) and lighted candles had been put up in their stead, with light blue and white ribbons streaming from them. White bouquets of flowers sat in the middle of each table, smelling enchanting but making Harry Potter nervous all the same. "God," he thought to himself. "Dumbledore completely overdid it. I feel like I'm going through a wedding." He flinched. He didn't want to think of this ceremony in that light. Dumbledore was trying to make this a romantic occasion -- Probably trying to compensate for the fact that Harry would never have another relationship. Instead of making Harry joyful, it was simply making Harry ill.
Tom followed quickly behind Harry and noticed the sudden hesitation in the young boy. He walked up beside him, grabbed his hand, and gave it a tight squeeze. Harry practically jumped backwards. "What are you doing?" he hissed. Tom just smiled comfortingly at him and held onto his hand, despite any protests.
The two of them reached the front of the Great Hall, where Dumbledore was standing.
"Are you two both ready then?"
Tom and Harry both smiled, though not at each other.
"I will begin. Modus una. Numquam solum. Continuus."
"Is this odd to you?" Harry whispered to Tom.
"What?" Tom asked, looking up to make sure that Dumbledore wouldn't notice them talking during the binding ceremony. Dumbledore was too preoccupied with repeating the scripture -- eyes closed, hands raised -- that he wouldn't have noticed if both Harry and Tom had gotten up and left.
"This whole binding ceremony thing. It seems too . . . I don't know."
"Like a Muggle wedding," Tom said, distastefully.
"Yes!" Harry exclaimed. Tom signaled for him to be quiet and Harry automatically shut his mouth, looking up at Dumbledore. No, the headmaster hadn't heard a word.
"I think Dumbledore's trying to make you happy," Tom said softly.
"This isn't making me happy," Harry scoffed.
"You know that and I know that . . . But he obviously doesn't."
"Being bound . . ." Harry said, cringing at what he was about to say. "Is being bound like getting married?"
Tom thought for a few moments before responding.
"In a lot of ways, it is. There's the romantic implication, there's the complete and utter devotion to one another, there's the commitment to stay together until death . . . In a lot of ways it's not at all like getting married."
"How is it not like getting married?" Harry asked hopefully.
"Because divorce usually follows marriage," Tom snickered. "With binding, there is no divorce."
Harry smiled a little at that but the foreboding reference to being bound together for life sort of ruined the joke. Nonetheless, Harry had to admire the fact that Tom could joke around during a time like this -- A time when both of their lives had been thrown into turmoil. "God," Harry thought to himself. "Do I even know you, Harry James Potter? Finding admirable traits in Lord Voldemort?" Harry looked at Tom who was, in turn, looking at Dumbledore who was getting really wrapped up in the entire ceremony. "No," Harry thought to himself. "Not Lord Voldemort. Admit it, you stopped thinking of him as Lord Voldemort quite a while ago. He's just . . . Tom Riddle. Just former Hogwarts student Tom Riddle . . . And he's not so bad."
"Ingressio amor. Prodigus amor. Obligatus amor." Dumbledore smiled and handed Harry a small gold band. "Oh great," Harry thought. "He's got the rings and everything. Talk about a Muggle wedding ceremony!" Harry looked at Tom, wondering if he was also in possession of a ring. Sure enough, a matching gold band was on his fourth finger.
"Reus." Dumbledore said, lifting his hands over Tom and Harry. The room began getting misty and soon Tom and Harry couldn't see each other anymore. Harry stood there, gripped in anticipation for about five minutes before the fog started to die down. He tried to slip the ring around on his finger but found that it was tightly locked in place. That would have sent him into a state of blind panic except for the fact that Tom quickly reached out and grabbed his hand again, trying to comfort and console.
"That was splendid," Dumbledore said sentimentally. "The binding ceremony is complete."
The binding ceremony is complete. Harry began to sway on his feet and little and soon, the Great Hall, Dumbledore, and Tom Riddle all disappeared into darkness.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------- - ----------------------------------------
Harry's eyes batted open and the entire world was out of focus. "I don't have my glasses," Harry thought to himself. He felt someone stroking his hair and, looking at the outline of the individual, guessed that it was Tom Riddle.
"You awake?" the individual asked.
Yes, definitely Tom Riddle.
"Yeah," Harry said, sitting up in the bed. "Can I have my glasses, please?"
Tom handed Harry the glasses. When he put them on, he was greeted by a spacious chamber -- Far nicer than any of the ones in the student dormitories. In fact, to his knowledge, it was far better than most of the ones that the teachers resided in.
"Lovely room," Harry commented, looking around.
"I know," Tom said. "Not bad. Move over, will you?"
Harry, on instinct, moved over. Tom quickly crawled into the bed next to Harry who bolted up in shock.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Harry shouted. "This is my bed! You need to get out of it right now!"
"Look around," Tom laughed. "There's only one bed."
"Oh god," Harry moaned. "You've got to be kidding me! Only one bed?"
"Yes," Tom replied. "Looks like we're going to have to share."
"No!" Harry exclaimed. "I'd rather sleep on the floor!"
"Suit yourself," Tom smiled. Harry looked down and realized that the floor was hardwood without a rug in sight.
"Forget that," Harry grumbled. He had classes and tests and lessons . . . He couldn't go every night without sleep thanks to the hard-as-a-rock floor. Harry looked over at Tom, ready to demand that he sleep on the floor. He noticed that Tom was gazing at him in a peculiar manner, akin to the way Tom had looked at him in his chambers when he had been wearing the light blue robe. Harry began backing up frantically against the bedposts as Tom began edging forward.
"Oh no," Harry thought to himself. "What's he doing now?"
