"Why are you lying?" Harry repeated, his voice louder this time.
Tom still didn't answer. Instead he crossed his arms and his mouth curled into a smile.
"I thought you said you weren't jealous?"
Harry wanted to hit him.
"Just tell me what he said," Harry said as he clenched his fists.
Tom didn't move, nor did he offer anything further.
"Fine," Harry spat. "I'll ask him myself," he turned and started to move back down the corridor towards Quirrell's classroom.
Now Tom moved as he tried to grab Harry's arm. Harry shoved him away hard, as he glared at Tom with cold indifference.
"Stop acting like an idiot," Tom said. "If you are seen to be against me, what do you think Quirrell will do to you?"
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Why do you care?"
Tom's thunderous look was almost worth it but for the heart wrenching pain which rocketed between them.
"Please, Harry. I'm on your side," Tom said. Harry gave Tom a cold look equal to his own.
"Then why don't you start acting like it?"
Harry walked straight past him. He didn't look back once as he made his way to class.
Tom bit his tongue as he followed. He knew Harry would not heed his warning, when did Harry ever listen.
The heavy book which Voldemort had instructed Tom study was tucked hidden in his robes. For the trouble it was worth, it was still easier that Harry didn't know. Only further unnecessary questions would arise and Harry would no doubt take the wrong meaning from it.
Tom had assumed that Harry without his dæmon would adapt, and this was certainly true at the start. Tom was still attached to Harry after all. But as Madam Pomfrey started easing Harry off numerous potions and the days started drawing out into weeks, Harry's incompleteness started to become apparent.
The weather had turned cold and the dark nights had started to draw in which had done little to settle Harry's imbalance. He would fall asleep away from Tom, only to wake. Screaming of guillotine's and grasping onto Tom as if he was the only thing to save him from the darkness.
Very few people had noticed, Harry's classmates and the professor's just assumed Harry was coping without his dæmon. But Tom knew, he could feel it ricocheting through him. Harry was breaking apart and Tom was failing to sustain him.
Hermione had fussed at first but now she had fallen quiet. Ramiron had become skittish around Harry, like he didn't know how to react.
Ron and Harry had also settled into an odd routine. Sometimes Harry would exchange the odd comment with him, but mostly Harry would draw further away, hiding up in the common room for hours at a time, point blank avoiding him. Sephronia had been clear in her dislike towards Tom, as had many of the other dæmons in the castle, but Harry was still fuming about the incident with Quirrell and as a result had taken an irrational response to Tom. Harry both craved and distanced himself from all contact. Harry had always been stubborn but Tom had long since tested his endurance. Of course, this was all due to the absence of Harry's dæmon. At least, that's what Tom tried to convince himself. Everything had spiraled out of control, way too quickly.
Even the first Quidditch match of the season didn't boost Harry's mood, despite having never seeing a game before. It had taken the combined effort of Hermione and Ramiron to convince Harry even to leave the castle, which only backfired when Gryffindor were crushed.
With Christmas approaching, Tom could only hope the quiet of the castle would give Harry the rest bite he needed. The only time Harry had come close to smiling was when the Weasley twins bewitched several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban.
The morning Hermione was catching the train home wasn't any better. Harry was pale and quiet as he sat beside Tom in the Great Hall.
"You need to eat," Hermione said.
Harry continued to push his bacon around his plate.
"I'm not hungry," he mumbled.
Hermione looked pointedly towards Tom at this statement, but he only ignored her.
"Harry doesn't have to eat if he doesn't want to," Tom said. This earned Hermione a death stare from Harry.
"Look, I'm just saying," she huffed before turning on Tom. "Don't you care about Harry at all anymore?"
Tom itched to reach for Harry's wand.
"Weren't you leaving?" Tom said coolly.
Ramiron nor Hermione flinched.
"Well, considering the way you're treating him-"
"Bye, Hermione," Harry interrupted.
Hermione's mouth snapped shut and she looked between Harry and Tom. Ramiron shuffled between her feet.
"You'll have a good Christmas, right Harry?"
"Sure, Hermione," Harry said.
Hermione rocked back on forth on her heels as she bit her lip. Finally, she relented as she turned and made her way out of the Great Hall. Ramiron gave one last squeak before he bounded off after her. Harry returned to pushing his breakfast around before he flicked his eyes up briefly.
"What?"
Tom hesitated, their conversation left unspoken.
"Nothing."
Once the holidays started things did little to improve. Ron's parents had gone away for Christmas, so the Weasley's and Harry were one of the few Gryffindor's left in the castle.
Of course, Ron was still furious that Harry hadn't told him the truth about Tom, but it was the lack of Hermione which had bought them back to speaking to each other on a more civilised basis. Ron and Sephronia ignored Tom completely and Harry was either too exhausted or broken to care.
Christmas morning, Tom awoke, to a shrill screech and a ruffle of feathers. To the side he heard Ron grumble as he rolled over in his sleep.
Harry was already sitting up as if he'd long been awake. Their hangings were drawn open and Tom turned to see the source of the commotion. A smart looking owl was perched on their bed post, a letter tied to it's leg.
When Harry still didn't move, Tom lent forwards to prise the envelope away from the bird. It was addressed to Harry and had an official looking seal stamped on the opening.
"It's from the Ministry isn't it?" Harry asked.
Tom nodded and Harry finally moved to open it. Tom could feel Harry's rising trepidation as he read on silently.
When he was done, Harry handed it back.
Dear Mr H Potter,
As you will be aware, an investigation has been conducted by the Ministry of Magic regarding the care at your relatives home. It is my duty to inform you that major concerns have been raised regarding your living conditions. As such Mr and Mrs Dursley's guardianship over you has been temporally revoked and your relatives have been placed under house arrest.
Please note that Wizardings laws do not hold any jurisdiction over muggles and investigations may only be progressed further dependent on the severity of the crime.
At present your guardian during the school term will be Professor Albus Dumbledore. Your guardian and thus your place of residence, during all other times of the year, has yet to be decided.
Regards,
Madam Amelia Bones,
Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Tom crumpled up the letter.
"Dumbledore is bad news," Tom said. "But technically it changes nothing. We'd be at school anyway."
Harry was silent for a moment.
"And the summer?"
"That depends on who they deem appropriate," Tom replied. "It is unlikely we will get a say in it."
"So, a foster home?" Harry said.
Tom shook his head.
"I'm more concerned that the Ministry will want a tight watch over me."
"But surely Quirrell can stop that?" Harry asked.
Tom was about to answer, but they were interrupted by Ron stirring and Sephronia barking excitedly.
"Look presents!"
Tom was surprised to see a small pile at the end of Harry's bed.
Harry who had never had any real presents before, barely even blinked. He remained sitting in the bed, as if Tom would still answer his question.
Tom however, slid onto the floor and handed Harry a package which turned out to be a small pipe. It looked like Hagrid had made it himself and he'd even included some owl treats for Hedwig.
The next present was from Hermione and contained a large box of chocolate frogs. Draco had gifted Harry a smart looking outdoor cloak, while Tom had received an expensive leather bound book on ancient wizarding families.
Nothing had come from the Dursley's, but Tom didn't expect otherwise.
Christmas day itself passed fairly quickly. After watching Harry ignore most of the huge piles of delicious food, Tom eventually dragged him back to the common room. The Weasley's had retreated outside. Celendia and Demetria, Fred and George's huskies had been bounding around the Great Hall all day as they waited impatiently to get out into the snow.
It was evening when Tom finally settled down to read the book Voldemort had given him. Tom had tucked it neatly inside the book Draco had given him so Harry wouldn't ask about it.
Ron had returned to strike up a game of chess with Harry. It was obvious Harry didn't have any interest in playing, but right now Tom had other issues to deal with. Voldemort's command had been mulling over in his head for a few weeks now and he had yet to act on it.
Tom turned back to the heavy leather bound book. Occulumency was way beyond the skill of a first year but Voldemort had assured Tom that he was more than capable of mastering it.
Tom flicked his eyes across to Harry who was attempting to muster morale in his chess pieces.
The concept was easy enough, detaching himself from Harry though was another matter entirely. Tom lent back and closed his eyes as he forced himself not to dwell on matters he could do nothing about.
Emptying his mind was certainly welcoming, although, it was neither peaceful nor relaxing. Only nothingness consumed Tom as if he'd done this a dozen times before.
It could only have been less than a heart beat when everything came crashing down.
Pain rippled into Tom which jerked him back into thought. His mind snapped open and he was bombarded by a searing sensation in his hand.
Tom stared down numbly. The flesh of his fingers had been torn open, blood seeped from a fierce wound. Sephronia had her teeth buried deep, but it wasn't the sharp pain, nor her faint snarl as she dislodged herself from his fingers, which tore Tom back into reality. Cold, consuming despair rippled through Tom.
Tom spun around in his chair as he searched with a desperate hunger to connect.
"Harry?"
The chess pieces were strewn aside and the table knocked to the floor.
Harry had fallen. Ron was beside Harry as he tried to hold him still. Fred and George watched on in horror.
Harry was shaking violently and Ron withdrew on Tom's approach. Tom didn't hesitate as he fell to the floor. He wrapped Harry tightly in his arms.
Sephronia who had blood stains over her face whimpered and retreated into Ron's. Celandia and Demetria were hanging by Fred and George's side, silent for the first time this evening.
The dreaded feeling was dissipating slowly from Tom, ebbing away before the nothingness could consume him. Harry didn't speak, nor did he acknowledge Tom. Harry's shaking was subsiding and his eyes were wide in pure terror.
"Harry?" Tom tested.
Harry didn't respond, he was ice cold. It was only when Tom shook him gently did Harry begin to come to his senses.
The accusation from Harry disturbed Tom far more than he would ever admit.
"What did you do?" Harry gasped as tears welled in his eyes.
Tom opened his mouth but no words came out. He didn't understand what had happened. Harry had fallen for no reason.
"I-" Tom began.
Harry's expression steeled over as his gaze became horribly unfocused.
"I didn't do anything-" Tom tried again before his voice fell short as he realised. Occulumency.
Harry's eyes snapped to his own.
"Yes, well no. I didn't mean too!" Tom began exasperated. "Not here," he glanced at Ron, Fred and George and their dæmons who were still listening.
Harry remained still, his eyes were already unforgiving.
"I thought it might help," Tom lied. "It's this technique, it's meant to block your mind."
"Oh, how considerate," Harry spat. Harry shoved Tom away from him and stumbled to his feet.
Tom grabbed Harry's arm to yanking him back, so that only Harry could hear.
"If I can block Voldemort out of your head then you wouldn't hurt when you're near Quirrell any more."
Harry however, wasn't having it. He took another step back.
"Harry, you're being unreasonable-"
Tom had never known Harry to look at him with such contempt.
"Don't you dare."
Harry raised his hand as he didn't meet Tom's gaze.
Tom's mouth snapped shut. He hadn't even noticed their brief detachment and Harry knew it. Harry had been shut off completely from both his dæmon and Tom, just like what the silver guillotine had always intended to do.
The silence was all Harry needed, before he turned and broke out into a run.
Tom ignored the Weasley's prying eyes as he tore after Harry and out of the common room.
Tom could barely keep up, several times he'd taken a corner just by instinct. Only the lack of pull on their souls told him that he'd made the right decision. Not that it would matter anyway, Harry wouldn't get far if Tom stopped.
Fortunately, the castle was deadly quiet. It was way past curfew and the professor's would still be celebrating Christmas with one another.
Tom could tell Harry was getting closer and his own pace slowed before he came to a halt in front of a slightly open classroom door. Very careful not to make any noise, Tom slipped inside and looked up, captivated by the huge object which towered over the room.
It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate frame which stood on two clawed feet. Harry stood dwarfed beneath it, his hand pressed against its glass.
"Harry-"
Tom's voice caught in his throat as he was caught off guard by the sheer warmth coursing into him.
Harry was glowing, his green eyes alight as Tom remained firmly routed to the spot.
"I see her," Harry whispered, a genuine smile busting onto his face for the first time in an age.
Tom stepped forwards, legs shaking, feet barely cooperating.
"Do you see her?" Harry grinned and he grabbed Tom's hand as he got closer.
Tom staggered at the intensity of their connection. Harry positioned Tom firmly in front of the mirror so that he could lean over Tom's shoulder.
Tom stared at his reflection while his heart pounded abnormally fast.
It was impossible.
Tom was unaware of his own hand moving upwards. His own fingers now pressed against the cold surface to meet the reflection trapped on the other side.
Tom blinked back the tears that threatened his composure. No, he couldn't have that. Not yet. It took every ounce of restraint he had to pull his gaze away. Instead he turned his attention to the frame and its beautiful carvings.
"It's nothing but a trick," Tom said.
Harry's face fell before contorting into anger. He shoved Tom out the way.
"She's not a trick, she's my dæmon."
Tom could feel Harry's fury brimming and it was mixed in with something much more sinister, underlying. Always there, never leaving.
"I don't see her, Harry," Tom said softly.
"But she's there," Harry gestured wildly. "She's right there."
Tom didn't look back to the mirror, instead he nodded upwards.
"I don't think we see the same thing," he said.
Harry glanced upwards.
"It's written backwards," Tom offered, and at Harry's funny look he sighed. "It says, I show not your face but your hearts desire."
A frown now creased onto Harry's forehead.
"Right, so it shows me my dæmon-?"
"Because you feel incomplete," Tom nodded. "You crave her more than anything, you are missing a part of your soul after all."
Harry's hand pressed back against the glass.
"I-I feel whole again, Tom."
Tom smiled sadly.
"I know, I can tell."
Harry turned to the mirror fully now.
"I-I just can't believe she's here, that's she's real."
"She's not real, Harry." Tom said.
Harry's expression soured.
"I can feel her!" he snapped.
Tom paused ever so slightly
"No, the absence you have is temporally filled, but it's not right. It's unnatural."
"You're wrong."
"Do you think she can feel you?" Tom said. "Do you think she knows you are together."
Harry's hands almost flew to his ears.
"Stop it."
"She's nothing but a mirage."
"Please, stop it."
At Harry's distraught look, Tom sighed.
"What is she?"
Harry blinked, he was totally thrown by this question.
"What animal is she?" Tom tried again.
Harry frowned. He suddenly looked uncertain as he stared back at his reflection.
"I don't know exactly-"
"Am I there?" Tom asked.
Harry turned to him as his own expression darkened. It looked like he wanted to lie, but Harry knew him better then to try.
"Of course you are."
Tom only nodded.
"Come on then," he made to grab Harry's hand and tug him gently away.
"What are you doing?" Harry snapped as he yanked his out of Tom's grip.
"The Library. Don't you want to know what animal she is?"
Harry looked hesitant before he finally relented. Although, not before he glanced back at the mirror once more.
The Library was eerily quiet. The hundreds of books towered over them, casting even darker shadows through the darkness. The candle that Tom had lit hovered in front of them, lighting up the spines as Tom scanned their titles.
It wasn't long before Tom found what he was looking for. He pulled it off the shelf and knelt down to open it on the floor.
"Well, what does she look like?"
Harry crouched down beside him.
"Like Adara, I guess."
Tom flipped a page.
"This one?"
Harry looked at it and shook his head.
"What's that?"
Tom sighed and rolled his eyes.
"A weasel, Harry."
Harry huffed.
"Well she's not that. She's bigger than that."
"Good," Tom concluded. "Weasley wouldn't let you hear the end of it."
Harry chose to ignore this comment as Tom stopped on another page.
"A stoat?"
Harry shook his head again as his face betrayed his disappointment.
"Well, you haven't given me much to go on, how about this?"
"No," Harry said dejectedly.
The flickering candle however caught on the next page and Tom knew instantly that they had found her. Harry sucked in a breath as his shaking fingers pulled the book towards himself.
"A pine marten, huh?" Tom mused as he read the text over Harry's shoulder. "I wouldn't have guessed that, are you sure?"
Harry nodded numbly as his fingers traced the picture automatically.
"My dæmon's a pine marten," Harry breathed.
"Pine marten's must be stubborn creatures then," Tom said. But Harry had already stood and was making his way back over to the door.
Tom jumped to his feet.
"Where are you going?"
"Back to the mirror."
"No, you're not."
Harry glared at him.
"I want to see her and you can't stop me."
"You know what animal she is, surely that's enough?" Tom asked.
Harry glared at him.
"You know it's not."
Yet again, Tom was on the receiving end of Harry's retreating back.
"No, it's not," Tom whispered.
Harry was desperate to see his dæmon again. He'd already slipped out of bed before Ron and Sephronia had stirred the next morning and would also have skipped breakfast if Tom hadn't insisted.
Now Tom was wandering around the corridors following Harry as he searched from classroom to classroom.
"Maybe it's somewhere you can only find at night?" Tom offered.
"I know it's here somewhere," Harry said.
After several hours, Tom was losing patience.
"Come on," he said, and he dragged a disheartened Harry back to the common room.
Straight after dinner, Harry was straight back to pacing the corridors again.
"I know it's here. We're close. I can feel her!"
"It's not her," Tom replied. "I already told you this."
Harry ignored him, before he jerked his hand up suddenly.
"I recognise that piece of armour."
Tom didn't know whether to be impressed or annoyed that Harry's persistence paid off. Sure enough, the classroom was just around the corner.
Harry was straight in front of the mirror as he rested his palms against it. Instant relief shared between them both.
Tom stepped closer and pulled Harry's wand from his pocket.
"Accio book," Tom said.
"That's not a first year spell," Harry said as a charms book came flying in through the door.
"No," Tom shrugged. "But the Ministry aren't going to care if I summon a book."
Harry chewed his lip.
"They're just looking for an excuse and you're giving them every reason to lock us up."
"Look, Harry. For all they know, you're really good at magic."
At Harry's continued look, Tom sighed.
"I'm assuming you want to be here most the night," Tom held up the book. "In which case I'm going to need something to keep me vaguely entertained."
Harry huffed before he finally gave in. He'd waited all day, he wasn't going to wait any longer.
It was quiet and oddly peaceful. Tom could feel Harry's relaxed hum as he sat on the floor, watching the mirror as Tom read his book.
It wasn't right, but how could Tom deny him. It was if the trial had never happened, and to have Harry happy again so soon was not something he'd anticipated.
"She needs a name."
Tom looked up distracted, only to find that Harry's gaze hadn't left his reflection.
"She has a name," Tom said.
Harry leaned forwards, his chin moving to rest on his knee as a frown creased his forehead.
"I don't know it though."
"It bothers you doesn't it?" Tom asked after awhile.
Sure enough, Harry shifted but he didn't say anything else.
Tom put his book down and moved off the desk to walk across the classroom. Tom crossed his legs and sat down beside Harry, careful not to glance the mirrors reflection directly.
"What's she doing now?" Tom asked.
"Sitting on my lap," Harry said. His own hand looked itching to stroke her.
"And what am I doing?"
"At the moment?" Harry said. "Mirroring you."
Tom froze, his stomach twisting in an uncomfortable knot as he nearly turned his head. Instead his intended words fell short.
"Lyra?" Tom said.
Harry turned towards him and blinked.
Tom smiled and shrugged. "It suits her, don't you think? For now at least."
"Lyra," Harry whispered. Before he looked back into the mirror for approval. This time, Harry's grin matched Tom's own. "She likes it."
Tom rolled his eyes. "That's because you like it."
By the third night, Harry and Tom were back again. Harry had insisted on staying for longer which Tom had failed to talk him out of. It didn't deter Harry from smuggling down in front of the mirror on a couple of pillows.
Tom was sitting in his usual spot on one of the desks.
It was after half an hour when Tom knew he was being watched.
"What?" he asked as he flicked the page of his book.
Silence.
"Harry?" Tom pressed.
Again there was a pause. Tom looked up. Harry was staring openly at him now, his gaze torn away from the mirror only briefly.
"Why do you refuse to look in the mirror?"
Tom sighed. It would do no good to lie, not when he had Harry's undivided attention.
"I can't let it distract me," Tom said.
"From what?"
Tom smiled sadly at this.
"From actually achieving it."
Harry automatically stared back at the mirror as his own frown deepened. Tom continued, it needed to be said.
"Your real dæmon is out there, Harry. And you would rather spent your time sitting here, dwelling on nothing but a fantasy. She won't sustain you forever."
"I'm not-"
Tom's expression sharpened.
"If you forget her, if you don't look for her, do you think she'll forgive you?"
Harry's face twisted into fury as he jumped back from the mirror and onto his feet.
"I'm not the one who ran away!"
"To save me," Tom countered. "You however, said you didn't want her. I mean how would you feel if I told you I didn't want you anymore?"
The hurt pulsing into Harry was more than enough for Tom to understand.
"I'm not-" Harry started. "I-I haven't forgotten her."
Tom could easily have reached out to comfort Harry, but he stayed deadly still, watching intently at Harry twisted back to the mirror.
For the first time in a while, Tom couldn't tell if the guilt which was shared between them was from himself or from Harry.
"You can't keep going back, Harry," Tom said. "It's not healthy."
Harry stabbed his knife into his chicken as he ignored him.
"You'll waste away," Tom continued. "Just forget about the mirror."
"Shut up," Harry hissed. "Just because you won't look, even though I know you want to."
"Yes, I want to," Tom agreed. "But I'm not stupid enough to get so hung up on something that isn't real."
"Don't you dare," Harry hissed, "You just don't want me to have her, you can't take it that I don't need you anymore."
Now it was Tom who clenched his fists. A glass on the table shattered.
Ron who was sitting further down the table with his brother's looked up and Sephronia growled in their direction.
Harry had clearly noticed this was a step to far as he stumbled, his own hand tentatively close to Tom's.
"I-I didn't mean it," Harry stumbled.
Tom didn't even look at him.
"W-we should get back to the common room," Harry continued.
Tom grabbed Harry's wrist which stopped him from moving.
"You're not going back to that mirror again, Harry."
The panic which coursed into Tom was totally overwhelming and Harry stared at him in sheer terror.
"Please, Tom. Just one more time."
Tom wished he could say no, but Harry's desperation was soul crushing and it clouded his own judgement.
"One more time," Harry pleaded. "Just one. I won't go back again."
Tom nodded and Harry's face lit up into a smile.
He really shouldn't encourage this. It would only mean Harry would have further to fall back into his despair.
Harry didn't rush this time. They walked silently through the school. It didn't take long to find the classroom and the mirror as the long twisting corridors of Hogwarts were now familiar in the dark.
Tom was sick with rising trepidation. His footsteps echoed down the corridors as he followed an eager Harry through the castle.
Just one more time wouldn't hurt. Harry would need his strength back if they were really going to find Lyra.
Tom watched as Harry shot a beaming smile back at him. Of course, with learning Occulumency, Tom had as an extension of this been tempted to learn Legilimency. Just to see, to watch Lyra from Harry's mind.
They were nearing the mirror and Harry's foot falls sped up as he pushed the door wide open.
However, what happened next, Tom did not anticipate.
Harry's hollowness coursed into Tom.
"Where is it?" Harry scrambled around wildly. "Where is she?"
Sure enough, the mirror was gone.
"I-" Tom stammered.
"She can't be gone," Harry screamed. His hands ripped into his hair as he turned to Tom. "Bring her back!"
"I-I can't-" Tom tried, but Harry was shaking now, tears brimming in his eyes as he paced up and down, eyes scanning the room as if she's suddenly return.
"Please," Harry begged. He pulled out his wand and shoved it into Tom's hands. "You must know how, you need to bring her back."
"Harry, you know I can't-" Tom said and he pushed Harry's wand back to him.
Harry's expression soured, his eyes narrowing.
"You can, you just don't want to," he hissed.
Tom pushed Harry against the wall.
"Stop it, getting mad at me won't bring her back."
But Harry was distraught, twisting away in panic.
"Harry, you need to calm down."
Footsteps sounded down the corridor and Tom knew that it wasn't just any teacher heading their way.
Harry finally flinched, his hand flying to his scar as he bit his lip hard. Harry's fear was mixing with Tom's own being as Quirrell approached. Tom dare not raise his Occulumency shields for fear of cutting off Harry.
"Shh, please, Harry."
The door creaked open and a narrow beam of light shifted across their faces. Tom moved to cover Harry but this time it was he who was the target.
Tom staggered as his mind was torn open from Quirrell's wand. Everything came thick and fast, his memories being ripped into as the mirror flickered into being with Harry standing before it.
Tom's vision shifted back into the room as almost as quickly as it had come. Harry had collapsed to the floor and Quirrell was smiling.
"Interesting," Quirrell said as he placed his wand back into his robes.
Tom fell to Harry's side.
Quirrell stepped closer and with a flick of his wand locked the door behind him.
"Do you wish to see your dæmon again, Potter?" Quirrell asked.
Harry's face was clouded in darkness, his eyes narrowed as he glared back at Quirrell. Tom wished Harry would say no, but he knew he wouldn't. Not now.
Quirrell's smile widened as Harry nodded, and Tom felt a chill run down his spine.
"Then I have a task for you."
Tom dipped his head, glancing at Harry as he did so. Everything was getting too complicated, too confusing. The conflicting emotions from both Harry and Voldemort were pulsing through his very being. Tom had never felt so incomplete, torn between two souls as he remained a mere fragment.
"And in return you'll find the mirror for Harry?" Tom said coldly.
Quirrell looked amused.
"You disapprove?"
Harry's head jerked to Tom at this statement. Eyes piercing into him as his resentment simmered.
Tom refused to look at Harry and instead he closed his eyes. The reflection of the mirror was so vivid, but never had it been so further from what he wanted.
He exhaled before he opened his eyes and composed himself. Tom had made his choice, the mirror only confirmed it. He would no longer float in the depths between Harry and Voldemort's souls. It would all be over soon.
Chapter 13 updated May 2018