XI
He knew he was dreaming, just as he'd known weeks ago at the Dursleys'. It was completely dark and drafty just as it had been in his 'dreams' of Voldemort. However, there was no pulse of light beckoning him forth - just a voice.
An unfamiliar voice.
It was soft but distinctly of the wry type.
"What a pair..."
"Who are you?"
"....An observer, really. If you want to meet me, wake up."
The dream was very brief and faded before Harry had gotten any answers. Unsettled, he woke to find Riddle still beside him. Asleep.
This was a first for Harry.
He looked deceptively calm in his slumber, if he was indeed asleep. Somehow it seemed odd for the Dark Lord to yield to such a mortal necessity. If he didn't need food as normal wizards and witches did, why rest? His back was to Harry, something that caused a small stirring within him.
That was a very vulnerable position for a wizard to put himself in, considering the parties involved, that is. Surely Riddle didn't trust him that much?
His lids fluttered momentarily before going completely still again.
Apparently so.
But Riddle wasn't what drew him from his own little slumber. Someone had spoken to him, much the same way as Riddle had done before abducting him.
But who?
His next question was answered by a fierce tugging. He felt himself being urged or drawn off of the bed and towards the bedroom doors. Riddle did not wake through all of this, though the younger wizard was sure he was making enough ruckus to do so. The mysterious tugging ceased once he was out of the bed, and Harry swiftly threw on his shirt and trousers...discarded carelessly during his 'lesson'.
So maybe it wasn't just dream.
He didn't linger on the thought, just left the room quietly, taking long purposeful strides past Riddle's desk and out of his study. Harry didn't even need candlelight to guide him; it seemed he was being urged along by this mysterious persona to wherever it was he was awaiting him.
He should have known it would be the cellar.
The stone hall looked more foreboding and ominous in the dark. The wards were there, which was what made Harry stop. However, his earring hadn't started stinging in his left lobe. Taking a tentative step towards it, Harry was surprised that the wards didn't hurt him.
Now, Riddle was nothing if not thorough. One would have to be pretty formidable to alter his wards. And it seemed these were no longer in a hurry to 'ward' Harry away from the cellar. There was no aura to speak of, yet who ever was calling for him was down there.
Harry felt as he was still dreaming as he followed the stairs down into the cellar. The lab doors were closed but they opened without protest. The lab was dark and silent, making Harry wish he'd thought to bring his wand along.
Funny how he was getting on without it these days....
There was no more mysterious tugging and the lab was deathly silent. He deliberated whether or not he should just turn back, that is before Riddle woke and found him wandering around down there, but a voice nearly startled him out of his skin.
"I'm still waiting...."
It wasn't in his head this time, which made his heart thump loudly in his chest. He still felt no aura, but it had come from the back of the lab, around where he thought he saw the portrait...
Feeling more than a little silly for not having thought of it sooner, he made his way to the hall, praying he didn't upset anything on the benches. He blindly called a candle to him and lit it, too anxious to revel in the small success. Raising the light to the far wall he sucked in a startled breath to see the face of a man watching him sternly.
"Finally."
"Are....are you one of Riddle's relations?" he asked, unnerved to no end to find a portrait here after seeing none what so ever in the entire mansion.
"In a rather circuitous way, yes."
Considering Riddle's mother had been a witch, Harry assumed this mysterious person was from her side of the family. After all, no muggle would have a talking portrait. There were small similarities between this wizard and Tom Riddle: his features were smooth, though not without age. The long hair , though streaked with white and grey, had clearly been black at some point. His nose was pointed and distinct, spelling nobility. Even this slight arch of his right brow was very Tom.
"Well, why did you bring me down here? Tom may wake up and—"
"'Tom'? Gotten to know one another rather well, it seems. Do you realize how your fellow witches and wizards would react to your current situation?"
Harry's mouth turned down in a deepening frown. He rather liked pretending his 'fellow witches and wizards' didn't exist.
"They aren't my 'fellows'. They've done nothing but expect the impossible from me since the day this all started."
"The…impossible?" he asked. "You don't mean destroying Voldemort do you?"
"Isn't that what everyone wants?"
The portrait raised a brown.
"If everyone wanted that, don't you think he'd already be dead?"
Before Harry could answer the portrait continued.
"Do you really think you have not killed him because you can not kill him…?"
Harry's rapid thoughts were beginning to make him feel light-headed.
"It is not my intention to unsettle you. But these are things you must think about before I can tell you anymore about your current situation and why you are where you are right now."
A knot slowly began to form in his stomach as he remembered his original question. This was no ordinary wizard's portrait.
"Who are you?"
The portrait regarded him for a long moment, deliberating.
"You might say I'm who Tom gets his inspiration from, though, his actions are entirely his own."
Slytherin….
"Slytherin…" The name fell out of his mouth as if it had been on the tip of his tongue all along.
"Surprised?" he asked in way of confirmation.
"Sort of….how did you—"
"The details are not important. But as you know, Tom is my heir, and as such, is capable of some exceptional feats."
Harry regarded him with a sudden degree of wonder….and caution. Slytherin did have a bit of a reputation.
"So it seems you've made a tremendous decision, pairing up with the Dark Lord. Are you prepared to live up to it?"
"Haven't I been?"
The question was answered by silence.
"Well I don't know what you're talking about then. And it's getting late." He turned to leave, frustrated with the degree of evasiveness he was receiving from a portrait, even if it was supposedly Salazar Slytherin.
"Tom Riddle's existence is being threatened. I say 'existence' because this time there is no coming back."
So now they were getting somewhere…
"You mean his Death Eaters? Or the rest of the wizarding world?"
"I mean what I said and only what I said. But you should know your blissful neutrality in this war can not last forever. At this point you can still safely claim the cause of a victim, stolen away and made prisoner by the evil mad wizard. Or you can fully take responsibility for your choice to learn from the darkest wizard known to wizard-kind."
"Have you seen what will happen?"
"I see everything."
An odd statement coming from a portrait. But, again, this was no ordinary portrait.
"I'll cloak the memory of this visit so that Tom will not know it happened. But you'd be better off learning how to do it on your own."
A fuzzy sensation began in his head as the portrait spoke once more.
"He's been training you for a reason, Potter. I think it's time you considered when to apply it."
… … …
With a final stir, the potion turned completely black. It was the proper thickness, color, and emitted a slightly metallic odor.
It was finished.
Snape extinguished the cauldron and waited the correct amount of time before bottling its contents. He refused to think that Voldemort might have seen through his untruth. If the dark lord knew what the potion really was, he'd have never let Snape leave the mansion.
In the bottle, it glowed slightly red in the center indicating that the potion it was connected to was still active. The drinker of this potion could still reach the other subject through that connection, but only for a few more days. Snape prayed that the next gathering happened within the week, or he'd have to find a way to get the boy another dose.
Lucius, you had better hold onto your end of this…
… … …
"I'm going out."
Harry looked up from his book.
"Have you eaten?"
"No, sir, not yet."
"Good. You'll be coming along."
Harry marked his place in the book and stood up just in time to catch the bundle tossed to him - another outfit.
"I'll be waiting in the entry-hall for you. Change quickly."
Riddle was gone before Harry could ask any questions, but based on the quality of the outfit, they wouldn't be spending a lot of time in the forest. He met Riddle downstairs as instructed, rather liking the way his cloak matched the older wizard's, even down to the way it swished when he walked. He followed Riddle to the usual area that allowed for apparition, all the while trying not to think of his bizarre meeting with the portrait. Two days had gone by and whatever 'Salazar' had done, Riddle had no knowledge of the meeting, or least he made no mention of knowing. Harry felt as if any second of weakness would betray him. And quite suddenly Riddle was watching him with a raised brow – the raised brow.
"Are you ready? It's getting late."
Late for what?
"Yes. But….where are we—"
"You'll see," he replied, grasping the boy's hand firmly and apparating them off the estate.
They landed in a grassy grove of trees, that is, Harry landed and Riddle arrived in top form as usual. He brushed himself off and took a look around.
"Another forest then?"
Riddle started off towards a meadow without answering. Harry nearly scowled in response.
Can't he just answer the question?
Harry started after him with some sort of indignant remark on his lips but the words died at the sight of a manor a ways off in the distance. He ran to catch up.
"Who lives there?"
"The Malfoys," he answered simply.
Harry stopped short.
"I'm not going in there."
Riddle kept walking as if Harry hadn't spoken.
"Yes, you are."
Harry was furious and refused to take another step towards the house. "The Malfoy's" meant Draco, and Draco was the last person he wanted to deal with at the moment.
"I haven't got all evening. We are here for dinner, among other things."
"They'll wait. Why didn't you tell me?"
The earring began to burn instantly, eliciting a cry from Harry. He stumbled toward the Dark Lord.
"You really ought to watch your temper. And I didn't tell you because this is what you'd do. It's easier to apparate a willing participant," he explained when Harry was once again at his side.
"Willing my arse! I want to go back, Tom. Now."
This time, Riddle stopped walking. His eyes were darker than usual, which likely indicated he was getting pissed.
"You want?" he ground out. "I suggest you stop behaving like a child and pay closer attention. In case you missed what I just said, we are here for a reason. Now keep walking," he snapped.
Harry wisely held his tongue and begrudgingly followed in Riddle's steps.
The silence continued as they continued on towards the manor. It was a hulking, but grand structure of smooth grey marble, and more windows than could be counted at that distance. As they neared the actual property lines, Riddle finally spoke and in a much calmer voice.
"What exactly turns you away from this place?"
"Draco."
Surprisingly enough, that hadn't been what Riddle was expecting to hear. While Harry was more of an adult than most of the men Riddle had met in his days, the muttered response reminded him once again there was always growing to be done.
"Draco?" he repeated dubiously. "Lucius' pathetic offspring? If for some reason you're concern—"
"Not concerned. I just don't feel like dealing with him is all. Who knows what he'll tell his friends once he sees me with you."
Growing indeed…
"Well, now that the Death Eaters have seen you with me, I doubt you showing up here can do any more damage in that respect. They do have sons and daughters, you know."
Realizing he hadn't thought of that, Harry felt silly for protesting so adamantly.
"But still, why apparate all the way out here?"
"There are wonderful things we call wards. And while I could get through them blindfolded, I can't yet say the same for you during apparition. Besides, we want to surprise them. Can't have the trace of magic alerting them just yet."
It was bizarre to hear Lord Voldemort speak of his own followers that way.
"Checking up on them then?"
"Something like that. The less time they have to prepare themselves, the better."
They reached the property gates soon enough and they opened for Riddle as if they'd been charmed to. An elf appeared in their path a few yards from the manor itself.
"Kopi welcomes master. Please follow."
Lucius himself met them in the entry hall looking as calm as usual, though it was odd for Harry to see him without his outer robes. It gave the impression that he'd rushed down to greet them, only pausing for composure seconds before they entered. His hair lay loose and pale around his shoulders, and he gave it an impatient flick before bowing politely to the Dark Lord. Harry made an effort not to look too observant.
"An honor, my lord."
"Lucius. My apologies for imposing but Potter and I were rather nearby and Malfoy dinners are worth the trouble…that is, if we aren't too late?"
"You are just in time. And of course it is no trouble at all, my lord. If you'll give my wife and son a moment, they'll be joining us for dinner. That is, unless you wished to dine privately and discuss…other matters…"
"There will be no need for all of that. Besides, Potter could use some of Draco's company, couldn't you boy?"
He could feel his stomach tightening at the condescending tone Riddle so casually adapted. It was necessary, but did it have to be so convincing?
"Yes, master," he muttered appropriately.
Lucius observed the exchange with a slightly raised brow. "If you wish, my lord. Draco will be most honored to have you as well."
"We were' nearby?'"Harry questioned, following behind Riddle.
"It doesn't have to be believable. As a matter of fact, these 'visits' are designed to make him wonder."
They followed Lucius to rather ornate sitting room where they were seated to wait. Harry had the honor of sitting on the floor beside Riddle's chair, as was of course appropriate. He minded up until Lucius excused himself and he felt familiar fingers slide into his hair.
It should have been humiliating. It really should have.
"How long have you been…coming here like this?"
"Nearly as long as I've known him."
The answer gave the impression that it had been a considerable amount of time.
"Have you always…not trusted him?"
"I've never trusted anyone. To place one's trust in another is an invitation to betrayal."
Harry's thoughts flew instantly to the sight of Riddle lying in bed, seemingly asleep and so relaxed. The image clashed blatantly with Riddle's ultra-Slytherin response. The fingers in his hair hesitated momentarily, and Harry could feel a presence in his thoughts. Quickly he pushed the thought away and sought to distract him.
"Maybe you haven't found anyone…worthy of that trust."
It seemed to have worked, though Harry was surprised by his own words. He had only been speculating, but he suspected they were true. Riddle grew up in an orphanage, and then Slytherin House in Hogwarts. The company he kept, if any, probably didn't warrant friendship, at least not the healthy kind Harry and his friends were accustomed to. Trust probably wasn't a good idea back in Riddle's day.
"Perhaps there is no one," he answered indifferently, twirling a lock of Harry's hair with two of his fingers.
Lucius returned, leaving no time for a response, and brought them to the dining room where Narcissa and Draco awaited, wearing varying degrees of carefully concealed discomfort on their faces. For the first time Harry could recall, Draco avoided eye contact with the Boy-Who-Lived.
As dinner was underway, Riddle conversed with Lucius and occasionally Narcissa about wizard politics, and what went on in the Ministry these days. He acted more like a family acquaintance than their lord and master. It, or at least something seemed to be the cause of a general degree of awkwardness for the family, though Lucius handled it well enough. The problem began when Riddle addressed a question to Draco, previously unspoken to.
The subject of wizard economics had come up rather circuitously and Riddle had plainly asked Draco what he planned on doing after completing that "pathetic excuse for a wizard's education."
Though ignored, Harry had been allowed to sit at the table for 'good behavior', and therefore could see the reactions of the Malfoys to all that went on. He looked up calmly, and for a moment, Harry thought Draco would handle it as smoothly as his father.
"Actually, I…haven't given it a lot of thought, si- my lord."
Lucius' fork clanged loudly.
"Draco, honestly, you're beginning your last year. If you haven't given it thought by now…"
"I…just meant that I haven't decided, father."
But the damage was done, and there was no doubt Riddle had picked up on Draco's little slip.
"Your father is right, boy. Just what are you going to do?" he asked slowly. "Before you know it, schooling will be done with, and you'll be faced with a nasty crossroad. And no one wants to choose the wrong path, do they boy?"
Draco risked a glance at Lucius. His father's jaw went very stiff.
"No, my lord, I suppose not. And, yes I should have given it more thought by now."
Riddle smiled smugly, happily aware of the discomfort he was causing, and Lucius' anger. Oh, Draco was definitely in for a Malfoy tongue-lashing. A pity he couldn't watch.
Silence passed until Narcissa made a few more pathetic attempts at civil conversation to clear the air. The dinner itself was excellent, as was to be expected. Though Harry wanted desperately to return to Riddle's home where he could think. The dark lord seemed to be thinking the same for he declined an offer to stay for a brandy after dessert.
"I'm afraid Potter and I have imposed long enough. Dinner was exquisite as always, Lucius."
Lucius gave a curt nod in response, seeing them out like any good host. When the door closed and the house grew silent once again, Lucius spoke without turning to the blonde he knew was standing behind him.
"Wait for me in my office."
"….Yes, sir."
… … …
A.N.
Let's just say the wait was probably harder for me than the readers. I say that because its pretty much torture to have ideas and want to write them down, but have simply no time to do so. To get this much out before the end of the month took sacrificing some of the few hours of sleep I've been getting. If ANYONE is still checking up on this story, I don't know how to thank you except by to continue working on it. I haven't completely proofread this so…I might be re-uploading it a few times. Just bear with me. Again, sincere apologies, and thanx to the readers.
btw: doubling up on college sciences big mistake
collapses