Chapter Seven
"What did he want?" Ginny asked as soon as he'd sat down. She had a page-full of scribbled notes next to her that hadn't been there before.
Tom still felt too ill to even fake a smile, but he gave the girl an appreciative nod. "He was just letting me know why I won't be Prefect. He also wants me to start studying Occlumency with S-Snape," he said, stumbling over the name slightly as he almost called the man Severus out of habit. He would have to work on that.
Hermione frowned without looking up from her book. She had a quill tucked behind her ear and another, much longer set of notes. Tom was intrigued to see some spells he'd dismissed as being too Dark for the muggleborn's morales. "Who else could be Prefect?" Even distracted, she sounded both offended and disappointed.
Both Tom and Ginny looked at the girl expectantly, Tom with a fair degree of amusement. It took a moment, but Hermione finally paled and looked up at him. "Ron?" she whispered in utter horror.
Tom nodded, a smirk creeping across his face at her upset. Friends they might be, but she clearly didn't have any higher estimation of the boy than Tom did. "Good luck this year," he offered, not bothering to hide his amusement, because there was no way Hermione wouldn't be the other Prefect. Dumbledore needed someone who would perform their duties properly. He shook his head sharply, picking a book at random and opening it. "Anyway, did you two find anything while I was gone?"
Ginny shook her head, glancing at Hermione. The older girl was still staring in disbelief, so Ginny went ahead without her. "Nothing we're ready to discuss anyway. You weren't gone that long," she said. "But what's Occlumency?" She colored. "T- Tom spoke about it, some, but he never really explained it, other than that it protected against Legilimency." She averted her gaze as she said it.
"It's the art of protecting one's mind against intrusion," he said. Ginny's eyes widened slightly. He shrugged. "Dumbledore thinks it might protect me from the visions." He doubted it would, given his connection to Voldemort, but it might have helped the real Potter.
Hermione finally huffed and shut her book at that. She leaned forward. "Do you think he'd be willing to teach us too?"
Tom hesitated. Certainly, if these two were to become members of his Inner Circle, they would need to learn the skill. "I'll ask Snape," he decided. His expression darkened. Severus Snape. How should he deal with his supposed Occlumency teacher? If he refused, that would only confirm Dumbledore's suspicions. If he allowed Severus into his mind, his identity would be revealed just as quickly. If he killed Severus… Tempting, but also clearly out. Obliviating and Confunding the man wouldn't work either - not with his mental defenses. That left very few options, all of which essentially boiled down to merely putting things off.
If there were no other options, he would have to reveal himself and find a way to convince Severus to join him. He frowned. Which side was Severus actually on at the moment anyway? He had saved Potter several times, so it was tempting to assume the man was on Dumbledore's side, but on the other hand, that was before Lord Voldemort made his return. The situation may have changed (again) since then.
He looked at the two girls across from him. They, having actually experienced life around Severus recently, might actually have a better idea of the man's current character than he would. "Do you think it's safe?" he asked.
"What, learning Occlumency?" Hermione asked.
Tom shook his head, though he knew that learning Occlumency was not very safe no matter the teacher. "I mean, learning it from Snape. Apparently it involves a fair amount of him trying to enter my mind."
The girls looked mildly put out by that, and Tom guessed their interest in learning had just taken a sharp nosedive. Ginny recovered first. "Well," she said thoughtfully, "I know Snape's awful, but…"
Hermione hesitantly nodded. "I actually looked up some statistics." She flushed slightly. "I never told you, Harry, because I didn't think you'd care to know, but…well… Since he became the Potions Professor, on one hand, the number of Hogwarts graduates with a NEWT in Potions has decreased. A lot. That's decreased the number of Aurors and Healers in Britain, and it's made many potions difficult to obtain in general. But the quality of those students who do graduate with a NEWT in Potions has increased, and he's the only Potions Professor in the world to boast a record of zero instances of death or permanent injury in his classroom."
Tom and Ginny both digested that. Ginny wrinkled her nose. "Does that mean he's on our side or not then?" she asked. "And I mean, he hates Harry, so even if he is on our side, that doesn't mean it's a good idea for him to be going through Harry's mind."
"But think about it," Hermione argued. "If he weren't on our side, surely he'd treat everyone better."
"Come again?" Ginny asked.
Tom understood well enough. "She means that he'd be working harder to pretend to be good. The problem with that though is you can take that reasoning around in circles forever. It doesn't get you anywhere." He sighed heavily. "I think Ginny has the right of it here - whether he's on our side or not is immaterial. The man clearly hates P- me, so letting him rummage through my memories can only be a bad idea." He glanced at the girls, but neither appeared to have noticed his slip.
"What else can you do then?" Hermione asked. She worried at her lower lip with her teeth, looking at him with an unsettlingly concerned expression.
As much as he didn't care for the clear sign of her affection, he admitted that he would have done better, as Voldemort, if more of his Death Eaters had felt similarly toward him. For one thing, he had no doubt that Hermione (and likely Black and every one of the Weasleys occupying this house) would stop at nothing to return Potter should she discover the truth, whereas most of his former followers had, by all indications, immediately disavowed him upon his disappearance. His methods had been faster, perhaps, but he was beginning to see why some leaders took the slow route of winning the hearts of their people. The only Death Eaters who'd cared to search for him were the ones unable to exist in society as it was - in other words, they desired his rule for their own self-interest, not out of any real preference toward him in particular.
He supposed it was rather like quantity versus quality. Each was suited to different situations.
"Thank you," he said, smiling at Hermione. Her concern had led to the realization of how best to come into power as Potter. "For caring."
The girl pinked and ducked her head.
Tom sighed. "I suppose I'll at least go to the first lesson tonight. Maybe Snape can actually put aside his grudge and teach." And maybe pigs could fly without magic, but it hardly mattered since the real problem was the inevitable discovery that Harry Potter was no longer Harry Potter.
The rest of the morning was spent researching, and Tom found himself slowly relaxing. He could almost envision himself being content like this, enjoying the quiet of the library and the occasional back-and-forth with Ginny and, more often, Hermione, discussing the merits or flaws of a particular spell, ritual, or Vow.
When they headed down for lunch, they found Black in the middle of an argument with the house elf.
"-stole it!" Kreacher was shouting as they entered.
Black yelled back just as vehemently, "And I'm telling you I have no idea what you're on about!"
"Master Regulus's locket! Good Master's locket! Bad master stole it!" A frying pan flew out of a cupboard toward Black's head, followed by a great deal of cutlery from drawers around the room. The man ducked and cast a shield before escaping, the utensils swarming after him while the pan struck the wall, denting it, and fell to the floor with a crash.
Tom shifted uncomfortably. Perhaps he should consider strengthening the wards on his trunk if this was the level of response his 'theft' received.
"What's all that about, I wonder," Ginny remarked. She didn't seem terribly perturbed though.
Hermione, on the other hand, looked irritated, hands on her hips as she stared at the doorway the pair had disappeared through. "If he would just treat Kreacher better, this sort of thing wouldn't happen."
Tom frowned at her. "How would you know?" he asked before he could stop himself.
Hermione sniffed. "Well, I won't deny it would take some time, but what can you really expect when the poor thing's been enslaved and treated so terribly all these years?"
Ginny shook her head at Tom in warning, but didn't join the conversation, instead setting to making herself a sandwich since her mother didn't appear to be around.
Ignoring the warning, Tom followed Hermione in her own lunch-making. "I suppose treating it better may have some effect, but the Black family hardly enslaved the elf," Tom said, confusion coloring his tone.
Both girls stared at him. "Of course they did," Hermione argued. "How else would it be their slave?"
Tom stared back. "It's not a slave though."
"Harry?" Ginny spoke this time, brows furrowed. "What are you talking about? No one's freed Kreacher."
Tom realized belatedly that there was a discrepancy here between his knowledge and Harry's. His heartbeat sped up and he thought quickly. They seemed to believe that house elves were slaves, and they expected Harry to think the same. That meant he needed a source for his knowledge. He had a house elf he could speak to - he'd discovered that last night. The Malfoy's former elf. Dobby, its name was. So long as he could speak with it again before either of these two had a chance, he could cover his tracks. "House elves in general aren't enslaved." He held up a hand before Hermione could speak. "I spent some time talking to Dobby, and they aren't."
He took a deep breath. "House elves work for their families because they need to serve. It's an actual, physical need, the same as food or water are for us. They were created that way." He took Hermione's hands, looking into her eyes. "It sounds terrible, yes, and many house elves live awful lives, like Dobby did. But other house elves are cherished by their families. And…" He considered how to put this. "And some house elves, like Dobby, want a different type of life, but others don't.
"Think about how Kreacher talks about the other members of the House of Black. He clearly adored them, even though they were the kind of people who mounted elf heads on the walls. People like Bellatrix Black. You might say he was brainwashed, and maybe he was, but that's how he feels now. He hates Sirius because Sirius went against his family, not because of anything he's done recently. Is it really your place to tell him the way he feels is wrong? How would you like it if someone came to you and said you only thought muggleborns were equal to purebloods because people like Dumbledore brainwashed you into thinking that?"
Hermione ripped her hands away from his, her magic agitated. "So what, I should just say oh well and ignore it?"
Tom shook his head and smiled at her. "No. I think it's wonderful that you care so much, and improving the way house elves are treated is a great goal. But I think you need to speak with a lot of house elves first and put together a better idea of what 'improving their lives' looks like to them. And you'll need to accept the possibility that their idea of improvement won't look anything like yours."
Silence. Tom hoped that went over well with Hermione. So long as she was willing to be reasonable about things, he was willing to add house elf life improvement to his agenda. He didn't own any elves himself, so it hardly affected him one way or another, and the girl really was brilliant.
Hermione's expression was still unhappy, but she seemed to be thinking things through. Tom gave her another small smile and went to make his own lunch.
After a quiet lunch, Tom and Ginny returned to the library. Hermione didn't join them.
"Hey," Ginny murmured after a while. "I…"
When she didn't continue, Tom looked at her, curious. "What is it?"
Ginny swallowed and shook her head, smiling shakily. "Nothing," she said.
With a shrug, Tom looked back at his book, pretending to read as he considered what to do about his Occlumency lesson that evening.
Dinner that night was relatively quiet. Hermione sat by Ron, avoiding Tom's gaze, and Severus was present, sitting stiffly at the far end of the table and reluctantly eating Mrs. Weasley's cooking. Even the twins seemed somewhat subdued in the tense atmosphere, though in truth their silence was down purely to Mrs. Weasley having lost her temper and cast a silencing spell on them at the beginning of the meal.
When he was finished, Severus stood abruptly. "Follow me, Potter." He swept out of the kitchen without a second glance.
Tom gave Ginny a wry smile and followed him.
Severus led him downstairs to the first basement, which felt distinctly darker than the rest of the house. Normally, this would make Tom feel more comfortable, but in Potter's body, the magic prickled uncomfortably against his skin. "This room will do," the dark-haired man sneered, gesturing for Tom to enter.
Tom peered inside, ignoring the Potions Master's impatience. The room was large, and crowded with dilapidated furniture. Like most of the house, it was also liberally coated in grime, though he didn't see any signs of the spiderwebs found upstairs. The smell was that of something long dead, and Dark magic thrummed in the air. Even so, he stepped through the doorway, closely followed by Severus.
As he did, something shifted, and Tom drew his wand, aiming it at…. Himself? He stared, caught off guard by the sight of a young Tom Riddle cowering on a moldering bench, hands over his ears. Faintly, a siren wailed in the background. His eyes narrowed. "Ridikulus," he snarled. His secret was out.
Before the boggart had finished dissipating, Tom shot a locking charm at the door, sealing Severus in the room with him, and a binding spell at the professor. The man dodged, barely, and Tom swore. "Expelliarmus! Depulso! Relashio!" A common spell chain used by Aurors attempting to take a target alive. Next would usually be a binding spell. Tom cast silently.
Severus dodged, and fell as the floor turned to ice beneath his feet.
"Expelliarmus, Incarcerus, Finite," Tom cast again, still silent, and this time he was able to catch Severus's wand easily, returning the floor to its normal state before the man hit the ground. The former Death Eater glared up at him. Tom heaved a sigh and crouched down next to the man. "Legilimens."
Without any of his usual care (and he admittedly had very little to begin with,) Tom ripped through the man's mind, searching for his true loyalties. He felt Severus pushing him back and grit his teeth. He needed to know, but… He withdrew, head aching from the unfamiliar magic. Damn this body and its magic. Severus had won. However, the confrontation itself served as a clue.
"You're not loyal to Lord Voldemort anymore, are you?" When the man didn't answer, Tom nodded shortly, lips twisting into a cruel smile. "You asked that I spare the mudblood, I remember. I suppose your defection was inevitable once I killed her." His eyes narrowed. "Though you likely turned traitor before that." He stood and backed away, transfiguring a simple chair for himself and sitting. "Well, I suppose I can't fault you for knowing your Master well enough to anticipate my actions."
Severus finally spoke, expression filled with hatred. "What's happened to Potter?"
"Cruc-" Tom cut himself off, biting his lip in his effort to hold back the curse itching to escape. He ran a hand through his hair aggravatedly. Torture was unlikely to bring this particular man in line. If anything, it would only push him further toward Dumbledore. What could he say to Severus to bring him to defect again? Perhaps… Perhaps the truth would be best, for once. "Potter was Kissed, and I, that is, the horcrux that existed within him, took over." He examined Severus's expression. Was that despair?
Severus's voice was hoarse. "Horcrux? You made…" He shook himself. "Potter is dead?"
"I made several." Tom paused, considering the matter further. "As for Potter, I suppose no one really knows what happens to a soul once a dementor devours it, so I can't absolutely guarantee that the boy is dead, but he's certainly in a place from which no one has ever returned."
"Why bother with this farce?" Severus asked. Though he was still glaring, resignation had crept into his tone.
"Because I intend to kill Lord Voldemort." At Severus's astonished and, reasonably, disbelieving look, Tom elaborated. "He did, after all, try to kill me twice." Tom shrugged. "I realize it wasn't precisely intentional on his part, but I also don't really care. From there it's an obvious choice. If I reveal myself, I find myself fighting a war on two fronts. If, on the other hand, I play the role of Harry Potter, I gain allies with little additional effort. "
Now Severus looked intrigued, if still a bit skeptical, and Tom began to think he could manage this negotiation with far less force than he'd previously thought. A show of good faith might not go awry here, he thought, and he cast a silent Finite at the man. He did not return Severus's wand, of course, but deigned to transfigure a second chair for him. "Now, Severus, will you aid me, or do you intend to report the truth to one, or perhaps both, of your current masters?"
The spy sat gingerly, as though expecting to be cursed at any moment. Reasonable, Tom thought, given Voldemort's previous behavior. He waited. Severus studied him carefully before at last giving the barest hint of a nod. "What would you have me do?" he asked, voice low.
"What do you want?" Tom asked, rather than answer.
"My Lord?" Severus questioned.
Tom waved a hand. "You may as well call me Potter." He sighed. "I am asking what you want in return. I inhabit the body of a boy you seem to despise, and my soul is that of someone you have already turned against. Therefore, I am willing to grant one wish, provided it is within my power to grant, if it will gain me your loyalty." He struggled with himself for a moment before adding, "If it is something I cannot grant immediately, I will swear a Vow."
This time, Severus took even longer considering him. Finally, the man said, "I swore to protect Potter." He scowled. "Albus assured me the boy was safe during his summers or I would have… No, I still should have -"
Tom cut him off sharply. "Enough." It came out a hiss. Severus's jaw snapped shut with an audible click. Tom took a deep breath, held it, then released it and tried again, keenly aware how tight his voice remained. "The old man placed the boy with abusive muggles, then left him cut off from the magical world. Someone else sent Dementors to Potter's neighborhood. If you still wish to chastise yourself for your non-existent fault in that, do it elsewhere. Now, your wish, if you would."
"Abusive?" At Tom's curt nod, the Potions Master sighed heavily, all fight leaving him. "Find a way to bring back Potter," he said quietly.
Tom stared at the man, brow furrowed. Restore Potter? "What are your conditions?" he asked, still thinking through this surprising request.
Severus's hands were clenched together, knuckles bone-white against already pale skin. "I ask that you do everything in your power to bring Potter back to life and let him live his life freely. Do this, and I will swear my life to your cause, provided you never ask me to turn my wand against Potter."
The request was poorly worded, and Tom could think of half-a-dozen ways to circumvent it while still being able to fulfill a Vow. However… He'd gone down that path before, as Voldemort, and it had resulted in the man before him: a traitor. As he'd decided earlier, he needed to do things differently this time. Quality over quantity. He stood and crossed the room once, twice, thrice, pacing as he considered the request.
Very little study had been performed on Dementors. Beyond the discomfort of their presence, the creatures were believed to be too dangerous to study. Should the things feel threatened, they would no doubt break free of Ministerial control and wreak havoc on the world. Tom himself disliked being near them for extended periods, and he had no way of knowing how to even begin fulfilling such a request. One thing was certain though. "This isn't something I will be able to manage in the near future." Especially now, the Ministry would never simply let him study one of their Dementors.
"Of course," Severus said, though the frustration that flickered across his face said he'd been hoping otherwise. "I would prefer, however, if you could find a means of ascertaining whether the state of Potter's soul is a time-sensitive matter. I am willing to help with any extracurricular activities necessary to prevent further degradation, should it prove necessary."
Reasonable. One of the more… not precisely popular, but certainly believed theories said souls within a Dementor lost coherency over time. Tom nodded once. "I will grant your request. Now, as for your orders… For the time being, I merely require that you inform me if either of your other masters does anything I might find interesting. And, of course, you will keep the secret of my true identity."
He approached, dropping to one knee in front of the other man, and pushed back the sleeve on Severus's left arm, revealing the Dark Mark. He considered it with a touch of impatience. Putting a visible, clearly Dark brand on his followers in such an obvious place had been a stupid idea when he considered it. Especially since, considering both Regulus and Severus, it had obviously done nothing to prevent betrayal.
He wouldn't make that mistake again.
"Forgive me for my lack of trust, but I will be ensuring your loyalty this time around." Tom touched his wand to the Dark Mark and looked up into Severus's dark eyes. The man had aged poorly, he noted. That was… regrettable. He blinked, startled at the stirring of emotion, and shook it away. Now was not the time. "Repeat after me." He waited for acknowledgement of the command before continuing. "I, Severus Tobias Snape, swear my life, body, magic, and soul to the one before me, Tom Marvolo Riddle within the body of Harry James Potter."
As Severus repeated the words, Tom traced his wand across the Mark. Pinpricks of blood followed, forming a red, jagged line across it. Tom injected his magic, twining it with the older magic of the Mark and sinking this new magic down under the Mark, where it would be difficult to detect. The Potions Master's breathing grew pained, and Tom adjusted his magic minutely, compensating for the differences between Potter's magic and Voldemort's. It eased the pain and also served as an additional protection against Lord Voldemort discovering the alteration.
"I swear to do my utmost to advance his goals, and he will be my Master before all others. So I swear it, so shall it be." Tom looked back to his servant as he repeated the last words and let his lips curl into a pleased smirk. Within himself, he could feel a thread of magic connecting him to Severus. He closed his eyes and pulled on the connection, hearing Severus gasp and savoring his control over the other wizard.
When he looked again, Severus was examining his arm. The end of the oath had sealed the wound, leaving naught but a thin white line. "A lightning bolt, Ma- Mister Potter?" The man clenched his jaw and looked away.
A heady jolt of pleasure shot through Tom at the slip. He smiled thinly. "It seemed fitting. And now for my own oath," he acknowledged. "I, Tom Marvolo Riddle residing within the body of Harry James Potter, swear on my life, body, magic, and soul to fulfill the following. I will discover the fate of souls devoured by a dementor. Should I discover the soul remains viable, I will put forth reasonable effort to retrieve the soul belonging to Harry James Potter while it remains so. I will provide this soul with a body and allow the revived Harry James Potter to live his life without undue restriction." He eyed the man before him and made a decision. "I will additionally put forth reasonable effort to ensure Harry James Potter's safety. So I swear it, so shall it be." He grimaced slightly as his magic flared, accepting the oath and binding him to it.
Something like astonishment colored Severus's features before he closed off his expression again with his impressive mastery of Occlumency. "May I ask, Mister Potter, what led to this…" He struggled for the words for a moment before settling on, "Altered behavioral policy?"
Tom snorted and shook his head. It was beginning to ache again. "Altered behavioral policy? Really Severus." He sat back into his chair, crossing his legs and resting his head against one hand. "I will admit that there seems to be some effect from being in Potter's body. Actions that made sense to me before now seem incomprehensible, and I find myself acting…" He shook his head, not wanting to examine the unexpected changes in his behavior. "For the most part, however, I am merely doing as I must to achieve my goals. Harry Potter can hardly gain followers in the same manner as the Dark Lord, after all. As the Dark Lord utilizes threats and violence, ruling through fear, Harry Potter must lead his side by winning their affection and devotion." He was proud that his lip curled only slightly at the end.
Severus raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Forgive me, Mister Potter, but do you truly believe yourself capable of such?"
It was with considerable effort that Tom ignored the urge to curse the Potions Master. After all, he suspected that was precisely the reaction the man was expecting. Instead, he once again waited for his ire to die down and gazed evenly at his servant. "I will do whatever is necessary."
"And what are your goals?" Severus asked. His body remained taut with tension, but the increasing boldness of his questions was, in a way, a sign that Tom was successfully convincing him.
Tom opened his mouth, hesitated, and closed it again. Finally, he rubbed his brow to ease his burgeoning headache and shook his head. "The end is the same. I will rule, immortal and omnipotent." His lips formed a thin line as his mind raced through the multitude of paths he might take to this end. "How I reach that point will be…. Necessarily longer now, I think, but there is little to be done about that."
He returned Severus's wand to him and, using his own, returned the transfigured chairs to their previous state. "Oh, Severus, I had a request regarding these sessions. See to it that Miss Granger and Miss Weasley learn Occlumency in my stead."
His spy nodded shortly, expression unreadable as ever. "As you say, Mister Potter. What would you have me tell Albus regarding your lessons?"
"Whatever you like, provided he doesn't begin to suspect me again," Tom said. "I may even join them in lessons eventually. It's just that, at the moment, they would be useless. I can't even begin to rebuild my shields until I've finished going through Potter's memories and incorporating them into -"
A tap-tap-tap from somewhere interrupted him. Tom frowned and looked around. It sounded like an owl tapping at a window, but so far as he could tell, there weren't any windows in here. "Did you hear that?" he asked absently, searching through the poorly lit room.
Severus nodded, wand at the ready, and began searching as well.
A moment later, Tom let out an exasperated sigh and called over, "It's over here, Severus." As the man approached, Tom rolled his eyes and pointed at what looked to be just another grimy tapestry. "Evansco," he intoned, and the tapestry disappeared, revealing a window so covered in dirt, no light entered at all. "For Merlin's sake, what has that elf been doing for the past decade?" he wondered as he opened it.
With a loud screech of metal on stone, the window opened, and a snowy owl flew in. Tom raised an eyebrow at her. "Hedwig." He'd half-expected her to have changed her mind about remaining with him.
She hooted twice at him triumphantly, then flew back out.
"Mister Potter?" Severus asked, closing the window again.
Tom smiled fondly in the direction Hedwig had gone. "She was just letting me know she succeeded in delivering my letter." At his servant's questioning look, he elaborated, "It was a somewhat dangerous delivery. I assume she convinced some other bird to take the letter for her." He wondered if the Dursleys would be getting some visitors soon. No doubt he'd hear about it if they did.
He checked the time with a silently cast Tempus. "I believe it's more than past time for our lesson to be over," he decided. "Good evening, Severus."
"Master," his spy acknowledged with a shudder.
Tom smirked as he left. Few knew much about the Dark Mark. It didn't just act to summon his servants and cause them pain, as most believed. It also reinforced their submission to him, burning if they disobeyed and radiating pleasure when they followed his commands. It enhanced their connection and even altered their perceptions of the world to a degree. Through it, he could both reward and punish.
As time went by, he had gradually ceased to use the Mark to condition his servants. Due to the connection, a degree of the magic fed back into him, and he'd been uncomfortable with the feelings it induced. That had been sloppy of him, he decided. No matter the discomfort, he couldn't afford to ignore even the slightest advantage anymore.
That night, he dreamt of his future Inner Circle, Severus and Ginny at his feet and Hermione meting out punishment to his enemies, reveling in their blood and pain.
