IV
Harry steeled himself for what the morning would bring. He lay in bed wide awake until his door creaked open. He waited for someone to enter and lead him to his fate, but apparently there was no one.
"Come to the drawing room."
The connection was gone just as quickly as it had come leaving Harry with nothing to do but get up and comply. His body ached in a doze or so little places from his edgy slumber. He badly needed to crack his neck and stretch but Riddle wasn't likely to take well to dawdling.
Once at the same pair of double doors he froze. They swung open gently. Riddle was waiting in front of a large bay window overlooking his favorite view of a set of rolling Irish hills. He didn't need to turn to be certain Potter hadn't come in yet.
The dramatics of adolescents...
"Come in, Potter."
The words were simple, but still so strange in their casualness. His voice was calm and quiet, which really told Harry nothing of the Dark Lord's mood. He came in, acknowledging the click of the doors behind him as if they indicated some monumental loss of freedom. He supposed they did in this particular situation.
Riddle finally moved to close the rather large gap between them. Dark flowing robes swished against his boots as he approached. Harry was certain that being able to sense the Dark Lord had its advantages, but at the moment all it did was make his stomach flop and his adrenaline surge. Being approached by power of that magnitude just took getting used too.
Belatedly, Harry thought that he should probably be kneeling at the moment, and as his muscles bunched in preparation Riddle's hand was on his cheek. He stilled, trying to be ready for whatever Riddle might do. But there was no preparation for being caressed by those hands.
"I take it that we understand each other, then?"
Harry nearly nodded but didn't want to upset the hand smoothing his jaw.
"Yes..." There had been something he wanted to say, but it was getting difficult to truly focus on anything other than Riddle's incredible closeness to him.
The older wizard made a noise of confirmation somewhere in his throat before his hand drifted to the boy's earlobe. Suddenly there was the brief buzz of magic and a stinging pain where Riddle held his ear. He gasped, reaching instinctively for the source. Riddle's hand had dropped to the shoulder and Harry was able to grab the newly installed stud in his left earlobe.
"What is this?"
"A precaution, if you will. Just something to ensure your cooperation. Try nothing suspicious and you needn't give it another thought."
Harry didn't consider this explanation particularly reassuring in the least. But so far it didn't seem like anything more than a magical leash, and he'd expected something of this nature sooner or later.
Riddle observed his handiwork fondly and Harry wished he could see it. It certainly must have had an interesting affect, not that it would have been his personal choice.
"I suppose you'd prefer something hackneyed like a collar?"
When was he going to tire of doing that....
"No. I just never pictured myself getting piercings and all of that sort of thing."
"Things never happen exactly the way we predict. Who'd have guessed you'd be spending your seventeenth birthday in my company? Certainly not you."
"I suppose not."
Somehow the thought was darkly humorous, though he didn't laugh. He hadn't imagined his seventeenth birthday in any great detail, but he assumed Ron, Hermione, and the Burrow would be involved somehow. With the glorious day no more than a day or two away, it was now safe to say that those ideas could be forgotten.
Now what, Harry thought to himself. Riddle still hadn't lifted his hand, and while it wasn't doing any immediate harm, it certainly couldn't be a good thing, could it?
Of course not! This is Voldemort, as in The Dark Lord. His interest could never be 'a good thing'.
But then why was the touch not making him as afraid as it should? By all accounts, he should be fearing Riddle's touch like the plague. Instead, he was curious to know what thoughts were running through that complicated mind. Harry hesitated in trying connecting to it, though the older wizard did it constantly with absolutely no reserve. Harry could actually feel the stirrings of the connection livening that very second.
"What is it you want to know, Harry?"
It was the old snake language. Without a thought the boy answered in kind.
"No, I just....I..."
The thought trailed off as the hand, causing so much mischief by simply being on his shoulder, migrated back up to the nape of his neck where it proceeded to unsettled him further.
"Yes...?"
Despite the situation, Riddle's tone seemed to indicate that he truly wanted to know. But for the life of him, Harry couldn't seem to remember a thing worth saying.
"I...don't understand you." There. That seemed to help him focus on the problem. "What do really expect from me?"
Harry awarded himself for a well-thought, however blunt, complete sentence.
"Remember the dream, Harry?"
"Dream? Oh. What about it?
There was a lengthy pause, and Harry feared he might not get an answer at all, but them Riddle spoke. Back to English, and back to oral speech.
"So much energy....."
The apparent randomness drew Harry back to his senses, "Energy?"
Riddle abruptly pulled away, and indiscernible look in his eyes. He headed for the door.
"You're free to look around. There will of course be some places you aren't allowed to explore..."
It dawned on Harry that Riddle had, for some omitted reason, changed the subject. He reluctantly acquiesced.
"And where might those 'places' be?"
"You'll know when you run into them." He opened the doors - actually opened them this time.
Though it thoroughly rankled, Harry took the hint that their little conversation was over. The loss of contact had a minute chilling effect that clashed uncomfortably with his unease. He should have been glad for the absence, but instead, some part of himself was anxious for the next caress.
Better to keep that thought tucked firmly away, he thought, hoping Riddle hadn't been spying this time.
There was the wordless 'pop' of an apparition behind him as he left the room.
The boy saw naught of the Dark Lord for the rest of the day. He wandered the floors of the mansion, running into no one but house elves for hours. There were many stairways, and at least three floors that he was certain of without being able to look at the place from the outside.
I could get lost in this place for days...
As soon as the thought struck him , a wave of fatigue washed over him. He paused on the stairway he was descending and waited for his vision to clear. He was light-headed, tired, and desperately in need of an actual meal. The whole fruit fiasco had been a full day ago and the last house elf he encountered hadn't been very helpful about food.
"Not your time for eating."
"No, you don't understand, its been hours. I just want something small," he lied in vain hopes of persuading the little guy to get him something.
But he, like most house elves, was very adamant about orders and allowed no exceptions, not even for The-Boy-Who-Lived.
It shook it's head, large ears flapping with the force of the action. "No food! Mr. Potter will eat when Master comes back."
Fully expecting that the elf wouldn't change its mind even if he dropped dead of starvation, he left it to its cleaning. It really was useless to get angry. But that didn't change the fact that he still needed to eat something.
Let's hope 'Master' comes back before I starve to death...
He set off to find his room, which he now knew was somewhere on the second floor. He knew it was somewhere in the left wing of the house, but the way was more complicated than that. He tried a few random hallways before finally admitting he was lost.
It would have been easier to find his way if he didn't have to fight off swoon attacks every few minutes. And it was quite possible that he'd wandered into the other wing through some circuitous back route. He stopped at a particularly long hallway and went to the large window at the end of it. The sun was on its way down, which probably meant Riddle would be back soon. He hoped he wouldn't be in any sort of trouble for having a look, but he had no other way of knowing what time it was.
And he was so tired. He slid down to the floor resting his head on the cool glass. Perhaps he could just stay here for a little while and sleep. When he felt a little less fatigued, he could try to find his room again. Maybe he'd even have a better shot at success with a clear--
Before the thought was complete, Harry was asleep. His slow breaths formed small puffs of vapor on the cool pane as his breathing evened out. The sun set completely over the hills, and before long the hallway as well as the countryside was lit gently by the waning moon. His body jerked now and then in his fragmented dreams, but what finally woke him was the presence at the mouth of the hallway.
He was surprised how much time had passed since he shut his eyes. He stood up sluggishly, his eyes falling on a pair of glittering red eyes in the shadows. Potter froze, not knowing what to expect. Had Riddle been summoning him but he'd been too deeply into sleep to hear?...For he was certain that that was Riddle silently watching him.
"I...sort of fell asleep. I just...I can't find my room," he managed, wishing he'd chosen to fully awake before trying to speak.
Probably didn't even catch a word of that nonsense...
Harry fell to his knees in front of him, taking his silence as a bad sign.
I'll just shut up and maybe he'll forget that I'm down here...
"Come," was all he said, turning and heading back down the hall. Harry scrambled after him for a second to catch up, then they continued on for a moment in silence.
"Honestly, you might have asked one of the house elves, Potter..."
Was that...amusement?
Sheepishly, Harry supposed this was true. But the house elves hadn't been very helpful thus far.
"No, but Wodie wasn't ordered to leave you stranded. He would have shown you to your room."
"I......didn't think of it, sir."
Harry received a grunt in reply, too woozy to be surprised by invasions of his thoughts. He followed Riddle's form through several dimly lit halls to the doors of his room.
"If you aren't too tired, you'll be required to wash and change before our evening meal."
"No. I mean, I'm not too tired."
Riddle raised a brow and continued. "Appropriate attire has been provided. I trust you can find your way to the drawing room in thirty minutes."
"Yes, sir," he replied as his cheeks colored.
Riddle waited for the boy in his favorite armchair. He held Julius Caesar open on his lap but he couldn't concentrate enough to actually read any. Potter truly was a beautiful magical being, even more so in his sleep. He anticipated the evenings in which Potter would have no reservations in his presence. Potter was still afraid, simply because he didn't know what to expect. In time they'd be able to read each other well enough for trust to come easily. But Riddle was no longer certain how much time there was.
Which brought up another matter - Lucius. He'd known Lucius since he was in his late teens and eager to be part of something powerful. The blonde was ambitious then, and he was still ambitious, just more refined about it. He'd just paid a surprise visit to the Malfoy estate, and while there was nothing obviously wrong, he knew Lucius well enough to know when the man was nervous - or more importantly, hiding something.
Narcissa had been as placid as usual, and Draco...well, it was difficult to decided whether the boy wanted more to please the Dark Lord or his father. But Lucius...he had the look of a man who held the biggest secret in the world and didn't want anyone to know. And that warranted looking in to.
For now, it was time for the boy to make an appearance - not a public one, but at least in front of the others. A gathering, perhaps., to get his feet wet and to see his reaction.
It was peculiar the way Potter reacted to their personal contact thus far. He seemed to enjoy it, even seek it out, but he questioned its source. He hadn't tried to escape or openly defy orders thus far. As he suspected, obedience wasn't really an issue. Perhaps it was time to ease up a bit...move on to the issue of trust. He supposed this evening was the perfect time for a chat of sorts.
A few moments more and the boy arrived looking superb in deep green robes with black velvet trim. His hair was still a little damp from his shower, but all in all, he was well put together. Something of his thoughts must have found a way onto his face for the boy began to chew his bottom lip.
"Don't ruin it by acting like a nervous school boy," he admonished.
Harry halted the fidgety behavior but he still wasn't at all comfortable. Riddle considered him silently for a long moment before walking up to him and laying a hand on his shoulder.
"You clean up well Potter outside of those ruddy school uniforms. Now come, you must be famished."
And Riddle led them through a door at the far end of the room Harry hadn't noticed before.
The dining room.
There was a house elf waiting inside who pulled out Harry's chair so that he could sit and did the dame for Riddle at the opposite end of the table. Then it vanished in a small puff of smoke. Seconds later the table was laden with food and drink.
Just like at Hogwarts... The thought caused in indecipherable pang.
At first the boy was too hungry to be self conscious - he piled food on his plate and wolfed it down. He neither noticed, nor cared what it was that he ate so long as he could get it in his body fast enough.
Food!
For long moments Riddle merely chewed thoughtfully and sipped his wine. The boy was simply ravenous, tearing through his food.
"If you choke to death, Potter, it would make for a very pathetic end to our little epic battle."
The fork clanged against the plate.
"By all means, don't let me stop you."
The fork stayed. Harry instead drank from his glass of water, praying the Dark Lord wouldn't dwell on his pathetic display of table manners.
The boy swallowed audibly. Riddle grinned in amusement.
"Tell me, Harry, why is it that men fear me?"
The younger wizard looked up suddenly, taken aback by the question. There was a span of silence during which he hoped the question was a rhetorical one.
Riddle waited for an answer.
"Because...you're evil."
The Dark Lord guffawed in response. "Have I given you far more credit than you deserve? Surely your ability of perception transcends the simple concept of 'good and evil', Potter."
Harry wasn't so sure he was prepared for a philosophical discussion with Riddle, but the conversation was surely headed that way.
"Perhaps this will make it simpler. Why do you fear me?"
"What makes you think that I do?"
"It literally rolls off of you Harry. You Griffyndors wear your emotions like a badge. But you aren't alone Harry - my own Death Eaters fear me and they've willingly joined my side."
The conversation was hardly of an appropriate topic for dinnertime discussion. Why couldn't they just eat in silence?
"Upon each initiation I explain to them that they have nothing to fear so long as they remain trustworthy and never defy me." He took another sip of wine and swirled it around in his glass. "Why, then, do you suppose each of them fears the possibility of death every time I summon them?"
"Perhaps they haven't heeded your advice, sir." He hadn't intended on contributing to the conversation, but now that he had, Riddle seemed even more fixed on him.
"I'm fairly certain many of them haven't heeded my advice. When the time is appropriate, they'll
receive their reward." The older wizard leaned back in his chair and fixed Harry with a look that went hand-in-hand with the look he'd given the boy after feeding him the fruit a day ago.
"But what will you do, Harry?" Riddle's voice had gone soft and the sound of it caused something in his stomach to swirl. Harry peered into his glass and tried forcing himself not to blush.
"I don't understand what you're talking about, sir," he muttered.
"Oh, I'm certain that you do. I do believe I'm giving you a choice, Harry."
At the boy's vague expression he sought to clarify himself a bit.
"Will you heed my advice? I explained that you would be made to serve me however I saw fit...and that can still be arranged. You would follow my orders just as they do. You would probably even fear me...just as they do..." He allowed the thought hang in the air of the dining room.
"Or...you could be...more than that."
There was something in the way he said it that nearly made Harry agree to something he wasn't even sure of. He jarred his head a bit to clear away the fuzz. This certainly wasn't a time to lose focus.
"You seemed pretty sure of what you wanted from me when you brought me here. But now there's something else...?"
Ah...now he's thinking.
"Haven't you ever grasped for knowledge beyond what they're rationing you at that ridiculous school? Are not well-acquainted with the Restricted Section?"
Harry drew in a breath at the realization that he hadn't always been satisfied with the Hogwarts curriculum. It was true that he often desired the less sugar-coated version of a magical education. Could he get that from Voldemort?
"You see, I was the same way. To me, knowledge is knowledge...neither good nor evil...same as magic. Back then, there was a restricted section of the Hogwarts library. But it wasn't nearly as stocked as it is today and all it takes is for the Ministry to decide a spell isn't good for a young wizard to have his hands on for it to be labeled 'evil' and added to that restricted section."
He paused.
"You can only imagine what has been added over the years, Harry. Wouldn't you like to take some of that knowledge back?"
Merlin, yes...
"Yes..." he breathed involuntarily.
"To wield so much knowledge objectively is where true power stems from. Their fear has proven that they can't be trusted with that power. But you..."
Riddle stood up and the table cleared itself. Harry was far too entranced by the crimson orbs fixed on him to take much notice.
"...You'd make a worthy pupil." If that fear can be transformed into trust...
"You want to teach me the Dark Arts...?"
"....Prove me right, boy...... and I'll teach you everything..."
He had decided to deal with this on his own. No need to worry about the good side or bad. The 'good side' had lost a large amount of his respect as it was. And knowledge was knowledge, wasn't it?
".....Alright."
Lids fluttered down over red eyes.