Author's Note: Review, Review, Review . . . And I never thought I'd
actually write a chapter called "Half-hearted Sigh" . . .
Chapter Six -- Half-hearted Sigh
"You mean bound as in under a binding spell?" Sirius swallowed, staring at his godson.
"Yes," Harry muttered. "So, you see, I had no choice. He's mine, I'm his -- Forever. You try to tell yourself it's not such a bad word -- 'forever.' But it really is. Absolutely horrid word."
"Do you love him?"
"I thought I did," Harry said with a half-hearted sigh. "You see, sometimes I'm a bit forgetful . . . I choose to forget, actually. I find it much easier to choose to forget. I forget what he's done. I forget what -- who -- he is."
"Who is he?" Sirius asked, perplexed by Harry's statements.
"Tom Riddle," Harry said softly, not knowing if the name would be familiar to Sirius. Was that a glint of recognition in his godfather's eye? Harry wasn't quite sure so he decided to continue along this path until he hit his dead end.
"Riddle went to school here back in the 1940s . . ."
"Wait a minute," Sirius interrupted, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "That would make him . . . "
"Sixty-nine years old. Glamour spells can work wonders, you know," Harry shrugged, sitting down next to his godfather again. Sirius did not look happy with the idea of his naïve godson being bound to someone old enough to be his grandfather.
"He was in Slytherin house," Harry continued.
"This just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it," Sirius commented with a sigh of exasperation.
"It's better than that," Harry said, smiling for some odd reason that he couldn't pinpoint. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the entire situation was utterly ridiculous -- positively insane. Whatever the reason, Harry started grinning like an idiot at his godfather who was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. "Tom Riddle is Lord Voldemort."
It took five seconds for the information to sink in and then . . . Sirius burst forth into peals of uncontrollable laughter. He fell across the bed, practically wheezing with the strain of it -- His skeletal chest heaving upwards and then falling back down. Tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes. Harry just watched him, no longer smiling at all.
"That . . . That was . . . That was a good one Harry," Sirius gasped out when he had calmed down a little. "I admit the boy's a nasty piece of work but no one deserves that kind of a label."
"I'm not joking," Harry said stoically. "I'm serious. Tom Riddle is Lord Voldemort. I'm bound to Lord Voldemort. Look at me." Sirius turned his head to look into his godson's eyes. "I'm not joking. I'm bound to Lord Voldemort."
And silence fell over the room.
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"Did he throw you out?"
Tom, arms crossed stubbornly across his chest, turned around to face the bitter words.
"Severus," he addressed, automatically wiping the pout-like frown off of his face and thrusting his shoulders back. "Shouldn't you be in the Great Hall with the others?"
"Why would I be back with them?" Severus asked. Tom noted the distaste on the word "them." Obviously, Severus wasn't enjoying the company at Hogwarts.
"Did you follow me?" Tom asked, sweeping over to stand directly in front of the Potions Master.
"Yes," Severus replied, bowing his head slightly so that he wouldn't have to look his former lover in the eyes. Tom's hand automatically whisked under Severus' chin, tilting the Potion Master's head back up so that his eyes could stare into the beady blackness.
"Did you want to see me?" Tom asked, a hint of coyness sneaking into his voice. He closed whatever gap had been left between the two men.
"Maybe," Severus answered truthfully.
"You know I'm bound to the young Potter," Tom whispered, moving his lips close to Severus' ear. "You know that we're bound together for life -- Him and I."
"I know," Severus said, some emotion choking the words in his throat.
"Jealous?" Tom asked, reaching his arms around Severus' neck, holding the man close to him. "Are you jealous of Harry Potter, Severus?"
"A little," Severus admitted as Tom lovingly stroked his oily mass of hair. Severus could sense the sudden shift of mood and he didn't like it one bit.
"Now you know how I felt when I found out that you were with James," Tom hissed, shoving Severus back against a wall. "Don't come after me again."
And with that, Tom reentered his chambers, leaving Severus in a heap on the floor in the middle of the hallway.
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"I'm sorry," Tom mumbled, reentering the chambers. Sirius and Harry were both staring intently at each other. "I absolutely couldn't stand being outside any longer. Some . . . students were pestering me in the hall." Tom decided to lie this once. He didn't want to spark any jealously in Harry over the subject of Severus. He knew what extreme power jealousy had.
"It's okay," Harry said, his voice in a decisive monotone, never breaking eye contact with his godfather. "We're just about done anyway."
"Don't let me rush you," Tom sighed. "I just get a little . . . Well, you know how I get."
"I know all too well how you get," Harry replied, turning around to look at Tom. "Would you mind getting ready for bed? I'm awfully tired all of a sudden and would really like to turn off the lights in a few minutes."
Tom took the subtle hint and locked the bathroom door behind him.
"What have you done?" Sirius said under his breath. "My god, Harry, what have you done?"
"I didn't do anything," Harry explained, trying to remain calm in the heat of the moment. "I was bound, remember? I had no choice. Tom tried running away from me once and I almost died from it. As I said, he's mine. I'm his."
"James . . . Lilly . . . Forgive me," Sirius muttered, not intending the young boy to hear.
"It's not your fault," Harry said quickly. "It's no one's fault. It was just something that happened. In a way, it's a blessing. I don't have to worry about threats against my life anymore. The wizarding word is safe from Lord Voldemort, Sirius! I have him in the palm of my hand, although he doesn't like to admit it." Harry tried to sound happy about this entire thing but the look in his godfather's eyes just depressed him to the extreme.
"How, in God's name, can you live with that . . . thing?"
"He's alright," Harry smiled. "He's not as bad as you think he'd be. Once he realized that he couldn't win and that he was stuck with me, he began to accept it. And he was cordial to me and then he started being nice to me and then things progressed from there . . ."
"Have you slept with him?" Sirius asked, obviously looking out for his godson's well being. Harry sighed. Why was everyone so interested in their sex life?
"Yes, Sirius," Harry said matter-of-factly. "I've slept with him. Once."
"My god. Oh my god . . ." And before Harry could say another word, Sirius was beside himself, choking with long, drawn-out sobs, his face buried in the palms of his hands. Harry stared at him desperately, not quite knowing how to react. He had never seen his godfather so distressed before -- It was a fairly disturbing occurrence. Harry rested a hand on Sirius' back, trying to provide some comfort. Harry heard the click of a lock and turned around to see Tom leaning against the doorframe, staring at the two of them.
"Is he alright?" Tom asked softly, nodding his head toward Sirius.
"He'll be fine," Harry said, patting his godfather on the back. Sirius slowly raised his head to look Tom straight in the eyes.
"You're just a child," Sirius sniffed. "I don't believe it . . . You're just a child, for God's sake! A foul-tempered child but still just a child!"
"Don't let appearances fool you," Tom said, his tone relatively soft.
"No!" Sirius cried out. "I won't believe you. Why should I? You're just a schoolboy that my godson happens to fancy. All this about binding spells and Lord Voldemort . . . It's just a lie -- A lie or a joke." Sirius had tried to enforce confidence behind these statements, had tried to convince himself that the worst scenario just wasn't possible.
"What can I do to convince you otherwise?" Tom asked Sirius.
"Nothing," the man replied. "Absolutely nothing."
Tom stood there, contemplating the situation for a few minutes. Then, an idea began to form in his mind.
"Statua Fidelis," Tom said with a quick wave of his wand.
Chapter Six -- Half-hearted Sigh
"You mean bound as in under a binding spell?" Sirius swallowed, staring at his godson.
"Yes," Harry muttered. "So, you see, I had no choice. He's mine, I'm his -- Forever. You try to tell yourself it's not such a bad word -- 'forever.' But it really is. Absolutely horrid word."
"Do you love him?"
"I thought I did," Harry said with a half-hearted sigh. "You see, sometimes I'm a bit forgetful . . . I choose to forget, actually. I find it much easier to choose to forget. I forget what he's done. I forget what -- who -- he is."
"Who is he?" Sirius asked, perplexed by Harry's statements.
"Tom Riddle," Harry said softly, not knowing if the name would be familiar to Sirius. Was that a glint of recognition in his godfather's eye? Harry wasn't quite sure so he decided to continue along this path until he hit his dead end.
"Riddle went to school here back in the 1940s . . ."
"Wait a minute," Sirius interrupted, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "That would make him . . . "
"Sixty-nine years old. Glamour spells can work wonders, you know," Harry shrugged, sitting down next to his godfather again. Sirius did not look happy with the idea of his naïve godson being bound to someone old enough to be his grandfather.
"He was in Slytherin house," Harry continued.
"This just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it," Sirius commented with a sigh of exasperation.
"It's better than that," Harry said, smiling for some odd reason that he couldn't pinpoint. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the entire situation was utterly ridiculous -- positively insane. Whatever the reason, Harry started grinning like an idiot at his godfather who was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. "Tom Riddle is Lord Voldemort."
It took five seconds for the information to sink in and then . . . Sirius burst forth into peals of uncontrollable laughter. He fell across the bed, practically wheezing with the strain of it -- His skeletal chest heaving upwards and then falling back down. Tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes. Harry just watched him, no longer smiling at all.
"That . . . That was . . . That was a good one Harry," Sirius gasped out when he had calmed down a little. "I admit the boy's a nasty piece of work but no one deserves that kind of a label."
"I'm not joking," Harry said stoically. "I'm serious. Tom Riddle is Lord Voldemort. I'm bound to Lord Voldemort. Look at me." Sirius turned his head to look into his godson's eyes. "I'm not joking. I'm bound to Lord Voldemort."
And silence fell over the room.
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"Did he throw you out?"
Tom, arms crossed stubbornly across his chest, turned around to face the bitter words.
"Severus," he addressed, automatically wiping the pout-like frown off of his face and thrusting his shoulders back. "Shouldn't you be in the Great Hall with the others?"
"Why would I be back with them?" Severus asked. Tom noted the distaste on the word "them." Obviously, Severus wasn't enjoying the company at Hogwarts.
"Did you follow me?" Tom asked, sweeping over to stand directly in front of the Potions Master.
"Yes," Severus replied, bowing his head slightly so that he wouldn't have to look his former lover in the eyes. Tom's hand automatically whisked under Severus' chin, tilting the Potion Master's head back up so that his eyes could stare into the beady blackness.
"Did you want to see me?" Tom asked, a hint of coyness sneaking into his voice. He closed whatever gap had been left between the two men.
"Maybe," Severus answered truthfully.
"You know I'm bound to the young Potter," Tom whispered, moving his lips close to Severus' ear. "You know that we're bound together for life -- Him and I."
"I know," Severus said, some emotion choking the words in his throat.
"Jealous?" Tom asked, reaching his arms around Severus' neck, holding the man close to him. "Are you jealous of Harry Potter, Severus?"
"A little," Severus admitted as Tom lovingly stroked his oily mass of hair. Severus could sense the sudden shift of mood and he didn't like it one bit.
"Now you know how I felt when I found out that you were with James," Tom hissed, shoving Severus back against a wall. "Don't come after me again."
And with that, Tom reentered his chambers, leaving Severus in a heap on the floor in the middle of the hallway.
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"I'm sorry," Tom mumbled, reentering the chambers. Sirius and Harry were both staring intently at each other. "I absolutely couldn't stand being outside any longer. Some . . . students were pestering me in the hall." Tom decided to lie this once. He didn't want to spark any jealously in Harry over the subject of Severus. He knew what extreme power jealousy had.
"It's okay," Harry said, his voice in a decisive monotone, never breaking eye contact with his godfather. "We're just about done anyway."
"Don't let me rush you," Tom sighed. "I just get a little . . . Well, you know how I get."
"I know all too well how you get," Harry replied, turning around to look at Tom. "Would you mind getting ready for bed? I'm awfully tired all of a sudden and would really like to turn off the lights in a few minutes."
Tom took the subtle hint and locked the bathroom door behind him.
"What have you done?" Sirius said under his breath. "My god, Harry, what have you done?"
"I didn't do anything," Harry explained, trying to remain calm in the heat of the moment. "I was bound, remember? I had no choice. Tom tried running away from me once and I almost died from it. As I said, he's mine. I'm his."
"James . . . Lilly . . . Forgive me," Sirius muttered, not intending the young boy to hear.
"It's not your fault," Harry said quickly. "It's no one's fault. It was just something that happened. In a way, it's a blessing. I don't have to worry about threats against my life anymore. The wizarding word is safe from Lord Voldemort, Sirius! I have him in the palm of my hand, although he doesn't like to admit it." Harry tried to sound happy about this entire thing but the look in his godfather's eyes just depressed him to the extreme.
"How, in God's name, can you live with that . . . thing?"
"He's alright," Harry smiled. "He's not as bad as you think he'd be. Once he realized that he couldn't win and that he was stuck with me, he began to accept it. And he was cordial to me and then he started being nice to me and then things progressed from there . . ."
"Have you slept with him?" Sirius asked, obviously looking out for his godson's well being. Harry sighed. Why was everyone so interested in their sex life?
"Yes, Sirius," Harry said matter-of-factly. "I've slept with him. Once."
"My god. Oh my god . . ." And before Harry could say another word, Sirius was beside himself, choking with long, drawn-out sobs, his face buried in the palms of his hands. Harry stared at him desperately, not quite knowing how to react. He had never seen his godfather so distressed before -- It was a fairly disturbing occurrence. Harry rested a hand on Sirius' back, trying to provide some comfort. Harry heard the click of a lock and turned around to see Tom leaning against the doorframe, staring at the two of them.
"Is he alright?" Tom asked softly, nodding his head toward Sirius.
"He'll be fine," Harry said, patting his godfather on the back. Sirius slowly raised his head to look Tom straight in the eyes.
"You're just a child," Sirius sniffed. "I don't believe it . . . You're just a child, for God's sake! A foul-tempered child but still just a child!"
"Don't let appearances fool you," Tom said, his tone relatively soft.
"No!" Sirius cried out. "I won't believe you. Why should I? You're just a schoolboy that my godson happens to fancy. All this about binding spells and Lord Voldemort . . . It's just a lie -- A lie or a joke." Sirius had tried to enforce confidence behind these statements, had tried to convince himself that the worst scenario just wasn't possible.
"What can I do to convince you otherwise?" Tom asked Sirius.
"Nothing," the man replied. "Absolutely nothing."
Tom stood there, contemplating the situation for a few minutes. Then, an idea began to form in his mind.
"Statua Fidelis," Tom said with a quick wave of his wand.