The Phoenix Follies
Pairings in this chapter: Slight Tom/Harry
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not getting money. I wish.
Chapter 4 : Look Right Through Me
For the third time, Harry opened his eyes and stared up at the Hogwarts ceiling. However, this time, he saw the familiar ghost sitting next to him on the bed.
"Tom," Harry mumbled in greeting. The ghost nodded and grinned at him.
"Things are happening today, Harry."
"Things?" The green eyed boy got up and rubbed at his eyes. Oddly enough, he suspected that there should have been something to block his hand to his eye, but couldn't be bothered to much care about it.
"An old friend of mine will be taking you away from here until School starts," said Tom. Harry looked up at him with a sudden pleading expression.
"Come with me?"
Tom smiled. "Of course. I won't leave you."
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, though his eyes were drifting to the open window. The rain had ended yesterday, but the clouds were still dark and heavy. He only looked back when Tom didn't answer. Tom was no longer there. Harry looked around before sighing softly. Perhaps Tom was never really there. Perhaps he was hallucinating. Dumbledore hadn't known about Tom, after all…And for some ready, Harry knew he should have.
The door opened. Harry watched expectantly, his body tensing with a not understood fear that only relaxed minimally with the coming of Dumbledore.
"Good morning, Harry," the old man said cheerfully. He settled himself in a chair beside the bed. "How are you this morning?"
"Better," Harry answered truthfully. His eyes were drawn to the many multicolored packages in the man's hands.
"Your friends have sent a few things," Dumbledore explained with a smile as he piled the boxes, cards, and bags of candy upon the bedside table. Harry picked up one of the cards and glanced over it. "Do you remember anything?"
"No, sir," Harry answered, opening the card to look inside. In carefully scrawled letters read the name 'Neville'.
"I see…" The old man was quiet as Harry looked at other cards, intent on paying homage to them before even thinking about the candy. It was the polite thing to do. "Would you like me to bring up a photo album, so you can put faces to these names?"
Harry thought a moment, then nodded. "Yes, that would be nice…"
"Good!" Dumbledore smiled brightly.
"Sir?" Harry asked suddenly. The old man nodded, granting his attention. "Sir, can ghosts eat chocolate?"
"Harry, my boy… Whatever has brought up this question?"
"Well, I'm sure Tom would enjoy the candy, sir…and I wouldn't want to eat it in front of him if he couldn't."
Harry blinked when a strange look came over the old man's face.
"Harry, when have you seen 'Tom'?"
"When I first woke up…and earlier, before you came. He talks to me."
"Has he ever threatened you?"
Harry stared at him incredulously. "Of course not! Tom's nice to me."
"I see," replied Dumbledore, noting the protective anger starting to show in those green eyes. It was not the time to ask of Tom. He had other questions that an angry Harry would be more apt to answer. "Tell me, my boy…Do you remember where the bruises came from?"
"Bruises?" Harry frowned in confusion and looked over his arms. "I don't see any…"
"They've healed." The old man sat back in his chair.
"I don't remember."
"I see…"
"Sir?" Harry asked hesitantly. The old man nodded for him to go on. "Sir, where did the lightning mark come from on my chest?"
He was amazed at the change that came over the man before him. All of the sudden, Dumbledore looked so much older, so haunted and sad. His face was older, the fine wrinkles deepening with regret.
"You were forced to fight in a war," murmured Dumbledore quietly. "One that you should have never been a part of so young…"
Harry covered his eyes with his hands, wincing as a flash of green lit up his eyelids. The flash seemed so symbolic…so familiar…but he could not place it. Looking up at Dumbledore, he wished that Tom was there beside him. The old man radiated power, dangerous power. It engulfed the room, saturating every nook and cranny. It wasn't exactly a bad power, but it was intimidating anyway.
"I wish Tom was here," Harry murmured quietly, not even noticing it was aloud. He heard a sudden gasp and looked up at Dumbledore. The old man was staring at something just behind him. Harry looked back and his face broke into a grin. "Tom!"
"Hello Harry," the ghost greeted, brushing an icy hand through the boy's hair. His crimson eyes glanced up and noted Dumbledore before he gave a nod of greeting. "Good morning, Headmaster."
"Hello, Tom," Dumbledore responded with a slight frown. Harry glanced between them, confused over the strange looks they were giving one another. Tom seemed to have a triumphant expression with hints of malice. Dumbledore's was more protective and old.
"When is Severus coming for the boy?" Tom asked idly, arms dropping around Harry's shoulders. The boy shivered at the cold that went down his spine, but was comforted by the soft touch. It was so different than a living person's touch. He wasn't afraid.
"This afternoon," Dumbledore answered. "He's finishing the last wards over the Manor."
"Ah yes, yes," Tom cooed, his head settling on Harry's right shoulder and voice very near his ear. A shutter went down the boy's back. "Can't have my little followers going after revenge, now can we? No, no, the boy is too precious, isn't he?"
"What do you mean, Tom?" Harry asked quietly, glancing at the silvery form that practically engulfed him.
"Why, Harry…You're the savior of the Wizarding World," Tom purred, lips brushing the boy's ear. "You killed the Dark Lord and saved the day…Precious little Harry Potter and his precious scars…"
"Scars?" Harry opened his shirt and looked down at the thunderbolt upon his chest. "There's only one, Tom…"
"Your forehead, child," Tom murmured. "The first attack is there…the final is here."
"Oh…" Harry quickly buttoned the shirt back up and glanced at Dumbledore. The old man had been watching them closely through the exchange. He was uneasy with Tom, Harry noted. He couldn't think of why. Maybe the old man didn't like ghosts? Tom was nice. Harry wanted Dumbledore to know that.
"Mr. Dumbledore, don't be scared of Tom. I know he's a ghost, but he's very nice…" His cheeks flushed as he realized just how much like a child he sounded. Dumbledore stared at him before smiling.
"Don't worry, Harry," he said cheerfully. "Tom does not frighten me."
"But you're uneasy with him," Harry persisted. Tom was still wrapped about him, the cool feeling calming the boy.
"Some," the old man admitted.
"Why?"
The boy's voice was so innocent that Dumbledore's ace fell with pity while Tom could barely keep from laughing. The ghost gently stroked Harry's cheek and purred in his ear.
"He knew me when I lived…" Harry shivered. "When I was a very bad man, Harry… When I killed and tortured and did a great many bad things…"
"But you're nice, Tom…"
"No, Harry. I'm not nice." The ghost chuckled softly and pressed his icy lips to the boy's temple. "I'm a very bad man."
"I like you, Tom."
Dumbledore watched this all with a mounting terror. If Tom was able to gain Harry's…he would gain the boy's loyalty. Even in death, Tom Riddle was very dangerous. Harry was vulnerable now. He remembered none of the war, of his life and relationships. Dumbledore was frightened for the boy.
"I'm glad," Tom answered the boy, squeezing him once more before letting go. Harry frowned a little at the loss of touch. He was startled when Dumbledore suddenly got up. The old man looked like he was thinking deeply.
"Harry, I must go. I have many duties to attend to…Let me know if you need anything."
"Yes, sir."
"Tom…" muttered the old wizard as he looked at the ghost, his eyes sharp. Tom smirked at him.
"I know, Headmaster."
With that, Dumbledore left the two alone. As soon as the door shut, Tom let out a peal of laughter and fell back onto the bed across Harry's knees. The living boy looked at him strangely.
"What is it?"
"He fears me more than you do," Tom said cheerfully. "I find it highly ironic."
"Why would I fear you?"
"Because I'm a very bad man," repeated Tom, still laughing. He got onto his hands and knees and moved up on the bed to look Harry in the face, his own only a short distance away. "I tried to kill you many times, Harry."
"Why?" The boy was not afraid. Not at all. He was confused, curious, but not afraid.
"I hated you," replied Tom. "You kept me from realizing a dream of mine…"
"I'm sorry…" Tom chuckled and shifted to sit upon the boy, straddling his hips as he kept his face very near.
"Don't be, child. It wasn't your fault, truly."
"It was still cruel of me," Harry mumbled, eyes lowered. Tom cupped the boy's cheeks and lifted his head. Harry wondered for a moment if ghosts were suppose to be able to move things.
"Don't dwell on it," Tom said sternly. "Severus will be here soon. Be ready for him."
"Yes, Tom."
A/N: ...It's getting hard not to change this to a Tom/Harry fic from the original pairing I planned. Tom/Harry is just very cute...
I'm not gonna tell you what the pairing will end up being. You'll figure it out eventually...
Damn you all. You people and your encouragements...One four-five page chapter a day is freakin' hard!! ...And yet, I force myself to do them. Damn it. It's a vicious circle. I like this story. A lot. DAMN YOU AAAAALLLLL!!
Don't worry. We'll be out of the Hospital Wing next chapter. It's already half written. At the rate I'm going, it might be posted by tonight. Damn you all...