Author's Note: The original work I write (i.e. My novel "Setanta" and my
assortment of plays) definitely isn't going to be posted at fanfiction.net
-- Sorry Jeth, it would just seem out of place here
Chapter Nineteen -- A Family Event
"I don't see why you're so moody," Remus Lupin said, laying the last piece of china down onto the table. It's one of those cheap sets that you get in the five-and-ten stores -- The kind of china painted with traditional blue- and-white designs. You only realize how many cracks and chips are in the dishes when you first get them home. And they looked so nice in the storefront window --
Not like Remus ever cared.
"Sirius?" Remus called up the stairs, hoping that the renegade animagus would hear him. "Sirius? Are you coming? They're going to be here any second now . . ."
"Coming." Sirius' voice was strained and muffled. It sounded almost as if he'd been crying and had just recently stopped. Remus thought for a moment about going up and comforting his one-time friend but there was so much to do . . . The salad still needed to be conjured up, for instance.
"Sirius, are you alright?"
Without further ado, Sirius came trampling down the stairs, a little sniffle here and there. Remus smiled at his rather askew looking companion. Sirius' hair was matted up in tangles again and his cheeks were blotchy. His clothes were wrinkled, his shirt tail half pulled out of his pants.
"'M fine," Sirius murmured, sitting down on the couch. "Just a little worried that's all."
"You're going to be fine," Remus sighed, kissing the top of Sirius' head in a small show of affection.
"It's not me, I'm worried about," Sirius exclaimed, turning to his friend.
Remus smiled -- "No, of course not. You're worried about your godson."
Sirius sighed and slumped back against the cushions. "It's just . . . God, Rem, what has he gotten himself in to?"
"Nothing that he can't handle," Remus said with the utmost confidence. "You have to learn that he's not a child anymore, Sirius."
The doorbell rang -- A high-pitched, intruding sound.
"Are you going to be alright?" Remus asked, quickly conjuring up a round of drinks.
"Just go ahead and answer the door, Remus."
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Sirius kept his eyes pinned on the "joyful couple" the entire night -- Every action, every word rubbing him the wrong way. Tom gazed at Harry, the glint in his eyes lodged somewhere between proud and lustful. "Don't look at my godson that way," Sirius thought, trying to keep the opinion to himself. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Riddle? You have absolutely no right to . . ." It was when Tom wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders that Sirius really began to lose it, his hands gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turned a sickly cream color.
"So what are your plans for after Hogwarts?" Remus asked, completely oblivious to Sirius' silent tantrum.
"Harry's mentioned wanting to become an Auror . . ." Tom stated, beaming at his partner. Sirius' grip on the table increased ten-fold.
"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't speak for my godson," Sirius said stiffly. Remus cast a disapproving glare in his direction but Sirius didn't seem to notice.
"It's not a big deal, Sirius," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. He kept his eyes downcast at all times -- As if he were carefully examining the china.
A palpable silence fell over the table.
"We're thinking about moving out of town," Tom said quickly, desperate to break the tension. Sirius looked as if he were about to go into cardiac arrest.
"No, you're not," he said definitely. It was a statement leaving no room for discussion.
That had never stopped Tom Riddle before.
"Harry expressed an interest in moving up to Northumbria," Tom commented, as if he hadn't even heard Sirius' tempermental outburst. "Near my hometown. I have so many awful memories of that abysmal ditch."
"In that case, why would you want to move there?" Sirius snapped. Remus rolled his eyes slightly, conjuring a cup of mint tea for the excitable convict. Sirius automatically reached for the sugar bowl.
"Accio sugar," Remus whispered under his breath. The sugar bowl quickly skidded across the table, taking its position directly in front of the werewolf. Sirius glared at Remus, his teeth bared in exasperation. "Can't have you getting excited," Remus explained. He automatically turned his attention back to Tom. "You were saying something about your hometown?"
Tom took a moment to stiffle his laughter before answering the question. "Yes, Little Hangleton. Dreadful, absolutely dreadful . . ."
"It's actually a charming little village," Harry corrected, despite some protests from Tom Riddle. "Old money, you know."
"And he's sounding like a Malfoy already," Sirius commented between clenched teeth. "Since when did money ever matter to you, Harry? I thought you were above all of that pure-blood, old-money nonsense. Obviously, it's all in the company you keep . . ."
"Could you please stop being so damned cruel?" Harry asked, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "It has absolutely nothing to do with that. I'm simply saying that it would be safe for us -- Safe and secluded and that's what I need right now."
"We're your family, Harry," Sirius argued, not willing to back down. "You're not going to move away from us. At the end of the day, you'll still have us. Who knows where he'll run off to?"
"I'll still have you? Where were you for the first eleven years of my life then?" Harry shouted, knowing perfectly well that it was a cheap shot to take. Instantly, Sirius backed down. His eyes downcast, he wrung his hands together -- As if that sole actions would wash all of the hurt, all of the neglect, all of the blood away.
The guilt kicked Harry in the stomach like a lead pipe. "I'm sorry, Sirius," Harry said quietly.
"Yeah," Sirius murmured under his breath, getting up from his seat and excusing himself from the table without another word.
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The guest bedroom was small -- Completely decorated in a printed rosebud pattern from Blands. Remus' house was the absolute picture of country living, no doubt about that. Harry covered himself up with the down comforter, resting his head against the pillow. Trying to forget his pettiness and relinquish his soul to sleep.
"Don't worry about it," Tom said, settling in next to the young Gryffindor. "You're godfather will come to his senses in the morning."
"I hope so," Harry sighed. "He's the only family I have left, you know." It occurred to him a few seconds later what an idiotic statement that was -- "Of course he knows that Sirius is the only family you have left," Harry thought to himself. "After all, he was the one who had your mother and father killed."
"Family can mean a lot," Tom muttered, his voice pitched with empathy.
"I'll never understand that," Harry commented. "How can you know how much family means? Doesn't it mean anything to you? The fact that you don't have a family due to the fact that you murdered them all -- Your father and your grandparents?"
Tom tensed slightly under these words. His eyebrows knitted together and his lips contorted into a tight frown.
"I never had a family," he replied sharply. "Those . . . muggles meant absolutely nothing to me."
"If they meant nothing to you, why did you go after them?" Harry asked logically. Tom remained silent for a moment, contemplating the question.
"I'm sure that your godfather will come to his senses in the morning."
"Nice," Harry scoffed. "Backing out like that takes real Gryffindor courage."
"That's why I'm a Slytherin," Tom smiled, leaning forward and gently kissing the rise of Harry's cheekbone.
"I hope you're right about my godfather," Harry yawned, closing his eyes against the world and its problems. "After all, he does mean more to me than anyone in the world."
"Oh." Tom arched one eyebrow slightly. "G'night then." --------------------------------------------------------------------------- - ------------------------------------------
After Harry had fallen asleep, Tom opened up the diary and quickly scrawled out a message:
"Hello Harry. I just was wondering if I could ask you a question . . ."
The ink dissolved into the fibers of the paper and a response was formed.
"Ask away, Tom."
"Who means more to you -- Sirius or me?"
"You, of course. Why on earth would you ask such an idiotic question?"
"Just wondering." Tom scratched the words into the diary and then shoved the volume into a dresser drawer. Smiling contently to himself, Tom Riddle (who was also extremely petty at times) closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Chapter Nineteen -- A Family Event
"I don't see why you're so moody," Remus Lupin said, laying the last piece of china down onto the table. It's one of those cheap sets that you get in the five-and-ten stores -- The kind of china painted with traditional blue- and-white designs. You only realize how many cracks and chips are in the dishes when you first get them home. And they looked so nice in the storefront window --
Not like Remus ever cared.
"Sirius?" Remus called up the stairs, hoping that the renegade animagus would hear him. "Sirius? Are you coming? They're going to be here any second now . . ."
"Coming." Sirius' voice was strained and muffled. It sounded almost as if he'd been crying and had just recently stopped. Remus thought for a moment about going up and comforting his one-time friend but there was so much to do . . . The salad still needed to be conjured up, for instance.
"Sirius, are you alright?"
Without further ado, Sirius came trampling down the stairs, a little sniffle here and there. Remus smiled at his rather askew looking companion. Sirius' hair was matted up in tangles again and his cheeks were blotchy. His clothes were wrinkled, his shirt tail half pulled out of his pants.
"'M fine," Sirius murmured, sitting down on the couch. "Just a little worried that's all."
"You're going to be fine," Remus sighed, kissing the top of Sirius' head in a small show of affection.
"It's not me, I'm worried about," Sirius exclaimed, turning to his friend.
Remus smiled -- "No, of course not. You're worried about your godson."
Sirius sighed and slumped back against the cushions. "It's just . . . God, Rem, what has he gotten himself in to?"
"Nothing that he can't handle," Remus said with the utmost confidence. "You have to learn that he's not a child anymore, Sirius."
The doorbell rang -- A high-pitched, intruding sound.
"Are you going to be alright?" Remus asked, quickly conjuring up a round of drinks.
"Just go ahead and answer the door, Remus."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------- - ------------------------------------------
Sirius kept his eyes pinned on the "joyful couple" the entire night -- Every action, every word rubbing him the wrong way. Tom gazed at Harry, the glint in his eyes lodged somewhere between proud and lustful. "Don't look at my godson that way," Sirius thought, trying to keep the opinion to himself. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Riddle? You have absolutely no right to . . ." It was when Tom wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders that Sirius really began to lose it, his hands gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turned a sickly cream color.
"So what are your plans for after Hogwarts?" Remus asked, completely oblivious to Sirius' silent tantrum.
"Harry's mentioned wanting to become an Auror . . ." Tom stated, beaming at his partner. Sirius' grip on the table increased ten-fold.
"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't speak for my godson," Sirius said stiffly. Remus cast a disapproving glare in his direction but Sirius didn't seem to notice.
"It's not a big deal, Sirius," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. He kept his eyes downcast at all times -- As if he were carefully examining the china.
A palpable silence fell over the table.
"We're thinking about moving out of town," Tom said quickly, desperate to break the tension. Sirius looked as if he were about to go into cardiac arrest.
"No, you're not," he said definitely. It was a statement leaving no room for discussion.
That had never stopped Tom Riddle before.
"Harry expressed an interest in moving up to Northumbria," Tom commented, as if he hadn't even heard Sirius' tempermental outburst. "Near my hometown. I have so many awful memories of that abysmal ditch."
"In that case, why would you want to move there?" Sirius snapped. Remus rolled his eyes slightly, conjuring a cup of mint tea for the excitable convict. Sirius automatically reached for the sugar bowl.
"Accio sugar," Remus whispered under his breath. The sugar bowl quickly skidded across the table, taking its position directly in front of the werewolf. Sirius glared at Remus, his teeth bared in exasperation. "Can't have you getting excited," Remus explained. He automatically turned his attention back to Tom. "You were saying something about your hometown?"
Tom took a moment to stiffle his laughter before answering the question. "Yes, Little Hangleton. Dreadful, absolutely dreadful . . ."
"It's actually a charming little village," Harry corrected, despite some protests from Tom Riddle. "Old money, you know."
"And he's sounding like a Malfoy already," Sirius commented between clenched teeth. "Since when did money ever matter to you, Harry? I thought you were above all of that pure-blood, old-money nonsense. Obviously, it's all in the company you keep . . ."
"Could you please stop being so damned cruel?" Harry asked, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "It has absolutely nothing to do with that. I'm simply saying that it would be safe for us -- Safe and secluded and that's what I need right now."
"We're your family, Harry," Sirius argued, not willing to back down. "You're not going to move away from us. At the end of the day, you'll still have us. Who knows where he'll run off to?"
"I'll still have you? Where were you for the first eleven years of my life then?" Harry shouted, knowing perfectly well that it was a cheap shot to take. Instantly, Sirius backed down. His eyes downcast, he wrung his hands together -- As if that sole actions would wash all of the hurt, all of the neglect, all of the blood away.
The guilt kicked Harry in the stomach like a lead pipe. "I'm sorry, Sirius," Harry said quietly.
"Yeah," Sirius murmured under his breath, getting up from his seat and excusing himself from the table without another word.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------- - ------------------------------------------
The guest bedroom was small -- Completely decorated in a printed rosebud pattern from Blands. Remus' house was the absolute picture of country living, no doubt about that. Harry covered himself up with the down comforter, resting his head against the pillow. Trying to forget his pettiness and relinquish his soul to sleep.
"Don't worry about it," Tom said, settling in next to the young Gryffindor. "You're godfather will come to his senses in the morning."
"I hope so," Harry sighed. "He's the only family I have left, you know." It occurred to him a few seconds later what an idiotic statement that was -- "Of course he knows that Sirius is the only family you have left," Harry thought to himself. "After all, he was the one who had your mother and father killed."
"Family can mean a lot," Tom muttered, his voice pitched with empathy.
"I'll never understand that," Harry commented. "How can you know how much family means? Doesn't it mean anything to you? The fact that you don't have a family due to the fact that you murdered them all -- Your father and your grandparents?"
Tom tensed slightly under these words. His eyebrows knitted together and his lips contorted into a tight frown.
"I never had a family," he replied sharply. "Those . . . muggles meant absolutely nothing to me."
"If they meant nothing to you, why did you go after them?" Harry asked logically. Tom remained silent for a moment, contemplating the question.
"I'm sure that your godfather will come to his senses in the morning."
"Nice," Harry scoffed. "Backing out like that takes real Gryffindor courage."
"That's why I'm a Slytherin," Tom smiled, leaning forward and gently kissing the rise of Harry's cheekbone.
"I hope you're right about my godfather," Harry yawned, closing his eyes against the world and its problems. "After all, he does mean more to me than anyone in the world."
"Oh." Tom arched one eyebrow slightly. "G'night then." --------------------------------------------------------------------------- - ------------------------------------------
After Harry had fallen asleep, Tom opened up the diary and quickly scrawled out a message:
"Hello Harry. I just was wondering if I could ask you a question . . ."
The ink dissolved into the fibers of the paper and a response was formed.
"Ask away, Tom."
"Who means more to you -- Sirius or me?"
"You, of course. Why on earth would you ask such an idiotic question?"
"Just wondering." Tom scratched the words into the diary and then shoved the volume into a dresser drawer. Smiling contently to himself, Tom Riddle (who was also extremely petty at times) closed his eyes and fell asleep.