At some point before the last apparition, Riddle knocked Harry out with a spell.
When she regained consciousness, she felt as if someone was slowly undoing the layers of her brain with a red-hot blade.
Faded memories moved before the girl's eyes like flickering curtains, glittering in shades of sepia and black and white that made her want to throw up once more. Potter went to extraordinary lengths to dodge those visions or repress them, but it was futile.
Aunt Petunia's thin profile materialized like out of a nightmare. '' You're a freak, abnormal and weird, just like your mother' '. The older woman's hateful voice poured out a torrent of insults as her slender fingers nipped hard at Harry's arms. Petunia's blurry features faded before she could even react, being replaced by the spider-infested closet under the stairs. But since this particular memory didn't scare the girl, it quickly was dismissed.
' 'There's a reason Harry can speak with snakes. There's a reason she can look into Lord Voldemort's mind. A part of Voldemort lives inside her' '. It's Dumbledore's speech that makes her fight harder.
Harry doesn't know how to feel about the Hogwarts Headmaster. She loves him and at the same time hates him for leaving her ignorant and untrained, unprepared for what awaited beyond the school walls, unable to save the people that they were counting on her to win a war.
When Potter again fails to get rid of those memories, she roams into a limbo inside her own head, watching as the events of her life are pulled back and played like a movie in the cinema.
Harry once again watches the Death Eaters' influence on the Muggle government cause a civil war. She sees the Order of the Phoenix split into two groups after Voldemort announces that he wants her alive: allies and people who think it best to kill her before the Dark Lord has the opportunity to put his hands on her.
Harriet finds herself losing what little family she had left; Ron and the Weasleys'. She loses friends; Lavander, Parvati, the Greengrass sisters. Potter witness the destruction of England with the words of the prophecy echoing in her ears. "The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord approaches (...), and one of the two must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives."
'The Dark Lord wants to turn you into a conscient Horcrux. Run, stupid child. He will make you disappear, destroy every trace of your existence until only the parts that are him are left'' . When Severus Snape's gaunt visage appears and the words that have been haunting her for years come out of the man's flat lips, Harriet finally finds the strength to push the invader out of her head.
Tom Riddle is kneeling in front of her with a thoughtful expression. The room around is a dimly lit place, with no door or windows visible.
Potter was tied to a chair, the only furniture there. All are muscles are stretched at an uncomfortable angle, and her exhausted body cries out for relief. Harry dodges when Riddle tries to touch her. Her head drops forward wearily from the effort to keep him out of her mind. He does not look happy.
''You are my Horcrux''. The fascination in his voice frightens the girl. He looks at her the way a mad entomologist would look at an exotic insect under a microscope. For just a moment, Harriet allowed herself to be afraid of what he would do to her.
— Surprise! - the girl exclaims with sarcasm instead of letting that spark of panic consume her. However, the mockery soon turns into a sob, and she no longer struggles when Riddle lifts her chin, pushing aside the dirty curtain of her hair to face her from above. He arches a perfect eyebrow, clearly deciding something, and then the ropes that keep Potter in the chair disappear.
The relief is immediate and almost makes her cry, but Harry refuses to move. All she can do is stare back at him, appalled.
''No need to be defensive, Harry. I won't kill you''. Tom Riddle speaks, taking exactly three steps back so she can get up.
— Wow, what a relief! I feel like all my worries are gone - the girl retorts, her irritation trumping her terror.
Cautiously, Harriet gets to her feet and rubs her aching arms. The burn on one of them is still horrible as if someone had roasted the skin. Riddle notices when she flinches from touching the region and approaches again.
'' Here, let me handle this. This burn is a serious one. You must have a high pain resistance''. He comments casually, using his wand to cast a blue-colored spell. Potter held her breath, believing she would lose her arm for good, but the wounded skin was enveloped in a cold mist and began to regenerate.
— I have, thanks to you — she replies like an imbecile because the other option is to cry, or worse, thank him. The girl is determined not to succumb to that display of false kindness. Harry is not that pathetic.
When she refuses to elaborate, however, Riddle frowns impatiently. Harry sighs and clears her throat. — When I was fourteen, you had one of your minions tie me in a gravestone and cut me up like a pig, then you put me under the cruciatus curse. This one wasn't even the worst of our encounters.
''Hmmm, I never liked kids''. It's the absurd answer that Riddle offers. His eyes are still fixed on her, staring in that same weird way, as if Potter is some fascinating species of bug.
When she tries to pull away, Riddle smiles and wraps one of his arms around her waist as if to provide support for the girl's body. The closeness is too much. Harriet can feel his warm breath against her forehead, the smell of expensive perfume mixed with sweat enveloping Tom's skin. She is dizzy and irritated, unable to remember the last time a human being touched her, and Riddle is like a damn octopus. His hands are everywhere, sliding over her face in a proprietary way. There's a sudden possessiveness in his eyes that Harry knows comes from the same boy who used to collect trophies at the orphanage.
She doesn't have a good feeling about this.
''I'll leave you free to move around the house, even in my absence. But if you give me trouble, I'll break your legs and arms. Do you understand? ''. Riddle says sweetly, his long fingers stroking her hair.
Potter swallowed hard and nodded to signal that yes, she understood. Her posture is rigid in that forced embrace. Luckily, Riddle takes his wandering hands away from the girl and smiles, making a gesture that means he wants her to follow him.
Riddle leads Harry out of the windowless room through a door that emerges when he touches his hand on the wall. They exit into a surprisingly ordinary living room. The furniture is sparse but of noticeably good quality, and all the decoration is in neutral, impersonal tones. The room looks like it belongs in a design catalog.
Riddle shows her the kitchen, the guest room where she will be staying, and the guest bathroom. The house structure itself doesn't make sense, but Harriet assumes this is deliberate to keep her from trying to escape. Either way, there's not much she can do wandless and in her current state of exhaustion.
— I didn't know that working as an attendant pays so well - Harry tells him, to keep the conversation from turning to Horcruxes. Riddle seems to know what she's doing and presents her with one of his daunt smiles.
''And it does not. Smuggling dark artifacts onto the European black market, on the other hand, is a very lucrative business. Or did you really believe that my job at Borgin & Burkes was of an attendant? ''.
When Harriet didn't respond, he rolled his eyes. ''Frustrating but not unexpected, considering the brilliant mind that came up with that ridiculous plan to kill me.''
Potter ignores the teasing and folds her arms over her chest. She supposed his amoral service made sense.
Harriet heard enough tales of the old pure-blooded families to know a little about Burke. Caractacus, even if he was a bastard with a bad reputation, had also been smart enough to hire the charismatic, handsome, and silver-tongued Tom Riddle to deal with his most unpleasant affairs. And Riddle was definitely intelligent enough not to let Burke fool him.
Fortunately, the eye competition between the two doesn't last long. Harry doesn't like to look at him. Potter has the feeling that Riddle, like Voldemort, will try to swallow her whole, make her disappear until all that remains in her are the parts that are his, which are Voldemort.
The Horcrux curled against the girl's chest writhes in displeasure, and she feels the beginnings of a headache pounding in her temples.
'' You need a shower. I don't want you ruining my sheets''. Riddle suddenly speaks, and she has no choice but to follow him into the spacious bathroom and as pristine as the rest of the house. Riddle fills the hot tub without even using a wand. He looks bored throughout the process.
Show off . Potter thought bitterly, staring at her empty hands. The warmth coming from the tub is extremely inviting, and she huddled in the doorway, approaches with hesitantly slow steps, hoping that Riddle will leave her alone. It doesn't happen.
— You can go now, Riddle. It's not like I can run down the drain.
''I won't take chances with you. From what I've seen of your memories, you always end up escaping in the most unlikely ways''.
Harriet takes a deep breath, too tired to argue, and reaches up to her shirt buttons, feeling her cheeks burn. She was no prude, privacy was a luxury Voldemort's fugitives didn't have, but Riddle was different. The idea of being naked in front of Tom Riddle made her want to pull her own hair out by the roots and run away screaming.
''Don't be shy, Harry''.
— At least close your eyes - she exclaimed with some indignation. She felt ridiculous to be arguing with baby Voldemort about modesty in his bathroom, but if there's one thing she is, that thing is stubborn.
If Riddle didn't give her a little dignity, Harriet is just going to stand there for the rest of her life. Tom Riddle apparently had other plans.
'' Take Off. Your. Clothes. I'm losing patience''.