AN: So... it's been quite a long time hasn't it? An understatement, I know. Nothing like a pandemic to make you get back into fanfiction writing. I've matured and grown, and some life crap made me rather turned off from proper writing. On the bright-side... when the boys grow into their proper teen years at least, I'm now more comfortable and confident in writing some of the more... NSFW bits. In addition, I hope this will be the last chapter with author notes. From the beginning I was only copying what I had seen in other fanfictions and kept the habit up for appearances. So without furtherado... get ready for another sudden bout of updates. The ride's started up again boys, girls, and others. Please enjoy.
The now vague memory of being locked in the dark had been kept alive by Ms. Cole's shared favorite pastime with Harry's aunt. That didn't make it any less traumatic when Tom picked it up. Afterall, being trapped in a closet was just plain awful all around, and given a chance to calm down the cramped darkness set into Harry's mind.
That's why it was such a relief when the door finally opened. Harry immediately launched himself at his savior, tears in his eyes. Assuming it was Tom he had his arms around, the scrawny boy squeezed his eyelids shut.
"Tom, thank God! Please don't ever do that to me again! Y-you don't know how scared I was! I promise I won't–"
"Harry?" Came the bewildered interruption from the person Harry's face was currently pressed against. This voice was too deep, and too loud, and now that Harry realized it, the chest was a tad too wide. Immediately, the orphan stepped back, letting go of this random person and took in the sight of them. Orion Black stood before him, dark grey eyes widened and jaw slightly slack. There was silence between them before Harry replied with as little emotion as he could.
"Orion." Harry promptly stepped backwards into the storage area and shut the door.
"Harry?! What do you think you're doing?! Come out of there, you ridiculous– ninny!" Harry resisted the impulse to laugh at the usually intelligent and often condescending pureblood's choice of words. Instead he kept a hand on the doorknob to stop the other wizard from entering.
"No thank you," Harry replied politely, remaining steadfast. No way was he going outside now. The darkness was barely noticeable while offset by the terrible embarrassment raging in the scarred boy's chest. It would've been one thing had it been Abraxas or really anyone else that opened the door, but Orion was too… Tom-like for the new situation to be anything more than a complete and utter travesty.
"Now you listen here, Harry Potter, you can run off and go cry in the bathroom like a girl for all I care, but Professor Slughorn needs something from inside your pity party room so open up!"
"It is not a pity party room!" Harry exclaimed as he threw open the door again, cheeks flushed. Even he was surprised by his sudden burst of anger. Orion however was quick to quip back.
"You're right. It's a closet. Now bugger off and go cry in the bathroom or something."
"I'm not crying," Harry protested as Orion pushed past him, causing the pure-blood to snort. Very unbecoming of his station.
"Then why is my shirt wet?" Harry chose not to say anything to that, his face burning. Instead, he moved outside the cluttered area so Orion could lazily riffle through the contents. Just before he could escape however, the pureblood glanced over his shoulder and spoke up. "Why were you locked in here, anyway? I didn't know you ever left Riddle's side. In fact, I could've sworn you were tethered together by some curse." Harry paused, meeting Orion's stormy gaze with his own gleaming emerald one. Slowly, he smiled.
"I just don't like being apart from him. I'm not used to it, since we always do everything together. It's lucky that I'm a wizard too." Harry started to walk away, but paused a second time. "I won't won't tell him you let me out. I'm a bit worried about him right now," he added on before he dashed away. He ignored Black's demand that he come back and explain himself. There was no time for that. Harry had to figure out how to best approach Tom now that he was out.
He was willing to stay in the supply closet, but he couldn't bear to repeat a similar encounter with a stranger running errands for the potions professor. He couldn't very well just wait somewhere else for Tom to find him, either. The mere fact that the dark eyed Parseltongue would have to search for something that was ordered to stay put could very well send him into a murderous rage. That thought sent terrified shivers down his spine. The only other option would be to seek him out… he could somehow send him a note before hand. However, that would do little to keep Tom's wrath from igniting. It would all depend on where Tom was, Harry supposed.
Luckily, Tom was alone when Harry found him. The dark eyed Parseltongue was sitting in their room, leafing through a book. Harry could tell that Tom wasn't reading a word of it. Whether this information would prove to work in Harry's favor remained to be seen. Tom's fury was unavoidable at this point, and Harry was hit for a split second by the desire to retreat back and pretend he hadn't broken free. The memory of being in the dark, cramped place warded off that thought. There was only one option left, and that was to keep Tom from jumping to conclusions.
It would all have to follow the knock on the doorway. Almost black eyes rose to catch Harry and pin him in place. Before Tom could so much as stand, Harry held up his hands beseechingly.
"Tom, can't we just talk about all of this first?"
"You directly disobeyed me." Tom's voice was clipped and short, and Harry felt his stomach sink.
"I'm sorry! But–"
"I'm sorry? "I'm sorry, sorry sorry sorry" that's all you ever say!" Tom bolted up to his feet now, turning away from his companion in what Harry dearly hoped wasn't disgust.
"I don't know what else to say when you get angry, Tom. I'm not even sure I understand why you're angry…"
"So you'd apologize for something you don't even know you did?!" Very slowly, Harry walked up to Tom, and wrapped his arms around the other boy, leaning his head on his shoulder blade.
"I just don't want you to be angry… that's all."
"Are you trying to pacify me, Harry?" Tom sounded shocked and disturbed, but Harry was ironically a bit too focused on smoothing Tom's ruffled feathers to notice.
"You're taking my words out of context…" Tom said nothing in direct response to that, nor did he turn to face Harry. Instead, he started to chuckle. It was breathless and started off quiet before he put a hand to his head and laughed freely. "Tom?" Harry questioned.
"So all this time I thought… but you're saying you've been trying to manipulate me?
"M-manipulate? N-no–!"
"Don't even try telling me otherwise."
Did he make him even more upset? How? How did Harry's words get twisted so quickly in Tom's head?
"I swear to you, I've never even tried to–"
"Don't swear to something that's not true, Harry. It's bad for your health." That gave Harry pause, and he unhooked his arms from around Tom. He took a few steps backwards, lowering his hands to his sides.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I don't ever want to hear you lie again. You're terrible at it. Especially when it's to me."
"Why won't you believe me when I say that I'm not lying?!" Tom whirled on Harry, a livid spark glinting in his eyes.
"Because I'm not a naive fool! Because I know you, better than you know yourself! You've copied and backed my lies enough times that I know every little tick and sign. Your hands twitch, because I've told you to stop making fists every time. Your smile is empty, and you dull your inflections to keep your voice from shaking." Tom stepped forward until he had Harry backed up against the wall. He jabbed a bony but slender finger into the stupefied boy's chest. "You–are–terrible–at–lying. Do not insult me, do not try to use the training I've given you on me. Do you understand?" When Harry stuttered on his response, Tom raised his voice and repeated his question.
"Yes!" Harry shouted, squeezing his eyes closed. He could feel the frightful tears prick at his eyes. "I won't do it again!" Harry gasped when Tom gripped onto his chin with one hand, squishing his cheeks together slightly as he pushed Harry's head back.
"You promise?" Tom's voice was sweet and temptingly kind. The mysterious pain in his scar from Tom's anger forced the tears to slip down Harry's cheeks. Tom hurt him easily, but Tom still made him want to lean into his dark eyed companion's touch. It was a paradox, but one that Harry was by now all too used to.
"I promise–!" Harry whimpered when Tom pressed his other hand against Harry's chest, pushing him further against the wall.
"Your words and promises mean little now, Harry. I'm starting to worry that I might have spoiled you with my pampering."
"Tom–"
"I'll give you one more chance Harry. Prove you can still follow my orders. Don't say one single word– not to me, not to anyone– until I tell you otherwise. It should be simple enough to do, yes?" Harry nodded, and Tom finally loosened his grip. "Good boy."
"Harry!" Orion called out when he spotted Tom and his pet heading towards their transfiguration class. Tom stopped, and greeted Orion with a smile once he had caught up to them.
"Good evening, Orion. Why are you in such a rush?"
"I'm–" Orion paused, glancing at Harry who was keeping his head down. "I'm not in a hurry. I found Harry locked in a supply closet earlier. Did you know about it?"
"No," Tom answered with wide eyes. "Is that why he's been so quiet? Why would someone do something like that?"
"Well, I don't have a clue, do I? Since he ran off without so much as a thank you."
"I'll thank you in his stead, Orion. Harry's not feeling well. At least I know why now." Tom's hand rubbed Harry's shoulder. From an outsider's perspective, it probably looked like he was consoling Harry. He was, in a way. But to Harry, it was both a reminder of his task and encouragement to continue.
"What, so I'm not allowed to talk to him? Can't we at least find out who did it?"
"I can try asking him in private– I was planning to, in fact. I suppose you can try yourself, right here, right now. But do understand, he doesn't like it very much when people interrogate him in front of a whole corridor of strangers."
"I–! I wasn't– oh fine, I'll bugger off. I can't believe I even wasted the energy." Orion continued to grumble under his breath as he stormed off.
Tom silently petted Harry's head as they resumed their commute to class. Harry's hands trembled behind the folds of his cloak. Luckily when they entered the classroom, nobody there had any interest in greeting Harry. Tom gave polite hellos to the acquaintances he had made. Harry was pushed down by his shoulder into a seat before Tom took the one next to him. The bright eyed boy took comfort in the close proximity. He held onto Harry's hand underneath the table during the whole lesson. It didn't allow Harry to be able to take notes, but Tom could easily write it down for the both of them. The lesson went by as normal, the only noteworthy thing that happened was when the teacher called on Harry.
"Mr. Potter, I would appreciate it if you'd at the very least lift your head during class. I understand lectures are not m strong suit to teaching, but I'd like to be sure you aren't sleeping."
It was the first time Harry had ever looked directly at a professor. He was surprised to find the man who had visited them in the orphanage standing in the room. He sat there, mouth agape until Tom put a hand under Harry's chin and closed his jaw for him.
"Very good," Dumbledore stated with a smile. "It seems that I've yet to completely turn into a rambling professor. Now then–" He turned back to the chalkboard and continued the lesson, his words fading into the background of Harry's mind again. At least he wasn't wearing that god awful tie.
When Orion and Abraxas opened the door to their room, they were only mildly taken aback to find Harry asleep in Tom's bed. Tom looked up from his book, and gave them a smile.
"It's rather late to go to bed, don't you think?"
"No, you and Potter are just early," Malfoy retorted. "You're like a couple of old ladies. It's only nine 'o-clock."
"We grew up with a strict bedtime."
"Right, then..." Orion huffed as he walked over to his trunk. "Do you have an explanation as to why Potter's in your bed again?"
"That's how we always sleep."
"It's queer."
"Is it, now? If I told you that the earlier incident has left him frightened, would you accept that as normal?"
"Nothing about you two is normal. But I'm not about to say anything about it."
"We'll agree to leave it at that, then."
Tom smiled in the face of Orion's glare. Black turned and grumbled as he got changed and burrowed into bed. Abraxas, having fallen quiet after his initial jab, followed suit until only Tom's candle was left on in the room. Silence hung in the air.
Tom glanced down at the other boy sound asleep next to him. He stroked a patch of unruly black hair down, and watched it spring back up again. Harry stirred, his brow furrowing. His whimper was gently hushed down. Dark eyes darted up to scan the room for prying eyes. Finding none, Tom leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's head.
AN: The recent movie seems to have confused many people about what Dumbledore taught before becoming Headmaster. Regardless of what the new movies show, fact is that in the second book Riddle referred to Dumbledore as the transfiguration teacher. Also, regarding the whole recent drama about the author. I don't care. Words cannot express to you how much I do not care about what she said on twitter or whatever. I stopped liking her as a person long before everyone decided she wasn't the apple of their eye anymore– for my own reasons, and nothing to do with political nonsense. I finally wrote a version of the next chapter that I actually like, so I'm uploading it, and I plan to keep riding that inspiration for as long as I can. Again, hopefully this is the last chapter where I make an author's note. For posterity's sake, I'm adding the author's note that was left as its own chapter for three or four years.
Old AN: This will be a short author's note to address an issue that has been sprouting up in the last few updates. When the new chapter is written I'll add it on here and the AN will be in bold like usual.
I'll just start off by agreeing that yes, it would be boring if Harry never grew a "backbone" as a few have put it. But Tom's doing his damnedest to set that back as far as possible. So in short... yeah, it'll happen, but I'm going to take my sweet ass time with it. For now, this'll be the status quo.
People tend to put way too much stock in the Prophecy and "destiny" that's mentioned through out the books. I say "mentioned" because time and time again, J.K. Rowling makes it clear that it is all complete nonsense. From Dumbledore telling Harry that it was his CHOICE to end up in Griffindor that put him in there, to it turning out that the Prophecy was actually about Neville Longbottom. (And maybe it was about the both of them, I can't remember it that clearly.) The sorting into houses has nothing to do with personality traits; most people in real life could be sorted into two or more houses. J.K. Rowling outright has Harry say that it was never just about him, that the Prophecy everyone went crazy over didn't really matter in the end.
I for one, don't put any stock in destiny. The future depends on the circumstances of your life up until now, and the choices you make. This Harry didn't lead the life of cannon Harry. He had entirely different experiences, and even with the few parrells I put in, he made different choices. Tom is the biggest difference.
So this Harry won't be the one of the Prophecy. Not for the sake of some loony lady spouting out words and not remembering them anyway. When/if he stands up to Tom and becomes his own person, it'll be because of his circumstances and his own decisions.
If you're expecting Lightning to follow the original you'll be sorely disappointed. The point of fanfiction is to take characters and ideas and run with them. Not to relegate yourself to the status quo of the original author.
