In the last chapter: Sirius and Harry have a heart to heart and he reassures Harry that he will love him no matter what. Harry and Tom have their second meeting and seem to be getting along quite well.
(AN/:) Hello everyone!
It's been a hot second, and for that I would like to apologize for everyone anxiously awaiting these updates. I am so sorry it's taken so long for me to update. I've been having a lot of computer troubles lately, so it's been a struggle. To be honest, I'm sort of still having computer troubles, but I've found a small, temporary solution for now. I can't guarantee that updates will immediately pick back up to a regular schedule, but I definitely won't be letting this much time pass again without updating if I can help it.
Thank you all for being so kind and patient with me. You all are truly so lovely and understanding and I wish all of you the absolute best! Now, enjoy the chapter!
Harry held out his hand to catch a few of the heavy raindrops from the downpour just beyond the protective awning he stood under. The sky was filled with thick purple-grey clouds, but strangely enough, the afternoon sun was out and turning the summer shower into a warm haze of golds and green foliage. The air was alive. The refracted light of a hazy rainbow no more than a thin veil of color over the clouds overhead. The onslaught of rain was so heavy it was hard to see through it very far.
"I suppose that walk will have to wait," came the low timber of mild disappointment from beside him and Harry turned to look at Tom, arm still outstretched, and shirt sleeve already soaked through. Tom was watching the rain as well, but instead of seeing the brilliant force of nature, he was staring at the rapidly growing puddles on the lawn with distaste and took a small step away from the splattering drops at his feet that threatened to wet his gleaming oxfords.
It had been a week and half since their first meeting and so far, each visit had ended with the invitation for the next day. They had eaten lunch together, taken several walks around the glorious grounds around Riddle Manor, taken a tour or two of the manor, even ventured into the town of Little Hangleton to explore a few shops. All the while sharing an easy flow of conversation that started the moment they met and petered out reluctantly when Harry knew he couldn't avoid departing any longer.
It had been strange at first, how easily they communicated, how much they had in common, and how well their personalities fit together, but either was too afraid to stop it and pull back from what was happening. Before meeting and getting to know Tom Riddle, Harry would have never imagined that Tom could be so . . . bright. Not bright as in intelligence, the man clearly had that in droves and from what he already knew about him, it wasn't a surprise at all just how knowledgeable he truly was. No, he meant 'bright' in a more literal sense. The wizard shown like a blazing sun in the middle of a void, his very company was invigorating, the way he spoke was elegant and collected but there were moments when a fantastic, whip-like humor would poke through and catch Harry completely off guard in the best ways.
In all honesty, it was hard to stay away from Tom. He was magnetic. He felt himself coming alive when he was around the young man and more comfortable and like himself than any other time. It was bizarre and beautiful and a flourishing gift of friendship he hadn't known was possible. He didn't have to hesitate, think, calculate when he was with Tom. He was already dreading the approaching end of his summer.
Today, Harry and Tom had spent time wandering around the manor for a few hours, exploring. Tom had admitted that he hadn't really looked through the entire manor, as he only ever had need for the main amenities and a few rooms to hold any guests he had. When Harry heard that, he suggested they take a better look around and checked every door they came across. Most of the rooms were either empty, a guest bedroom, a closet, or a bathroom. Though, every once in a while, they encountered a room that they either didn't know the purpose of, or held some new, hidden surprise. They even found one room filled with dusty muggle instruments. Many were out of tune, but that didn't stop them from plucking the strings or dancing their fingers over ivory keys.
Eventually they returned to the more familiar parts of the manor and had a delicious—but healthy—lunch. Once they were full of food and slight restlessness, they had decided on a short walk through some of the gardens behind the manor, not anticipating the shift in sunny weather while they'd been indoors, which led them to now.
Harry turned his eyes away from the put-out expression on Tom's face to look back at the rain. It was warm on his hand and the mist in the air was curling over his tongue in vaporous clouds. His heart was pounding with excitement and before he gave his mind another moment to think it through, Harry reached over without even looking, wrapped his fingers tightly around Tom's wrist, and ran out into the rain.
"Harry!" Tom exclaimed as the rain immediately began to soak them both. Harry laughed high and breathless and continued to run over the grass. Once they were both thoroughly soaked, Harry let go of Tom and turned to face the brunette while still walking backwards, a brilliant smile beaming through his cheeks and bright green eyes almost glowing in the light of the sun and utter joy coursing through him. Tom, on the other hand, looked baffled as to why Harry had done that and seemed to be searching through his now heavy wet robes for his wand to dry himself—or hex Harry, either one.
"What the hell are you doing?" Tom barked out, absent of any real heat. Harry laughed as he toed off his shoes and tilted his head back to feel the warm rain against his face. Raindrops sliding over his forehead and into his hair like an anointment from the sky. He dropped his head back down and looked at Tom, who had stopped trying to find his wand and had instead tore his outer robe off in frustration, leaving him in a soaked dress shirt and trousers like Harry—though Harry had rolled his sleeves up hours ago due to the heavy August heat. Tom turned his attention back to Harry, waiting for an answer, almost squinting through the thick downpour.
Nature. It was the purest form of magic Harry had known before he knew about the core living inside of him. A magic witches and wizards often forgot about and took for granted. The rain didn't know, nor care, for blood status or wealth. It didn't care who or what it fell on, it just did.
"I'm living, Tom! I think it's about time you joined me." Harry said through his smile, still breathing heavy and buzzing with energy. In response, Tom looked around at rain and golden and emerald landscape surrounding him, before looking straight up, tilting his head back as Harry had done moments ago and closing his eyes. Like he was trying to feel it, whatever it was that Harry felt. Harry stayed quiet and watched.
For a few moments, Tom's brows scrunched together like he was getting frustrated, but then . . . his face relaxed, his lips parted, and the breath whooshed out of him. Then, slowly, his head lowered while his eyes slid open, looking straight at the raven-haired teen. Through the rain, Harry could see something alive in Tom's gaze and his face bloomed with a glowing smile before Harry turned on his heel and broke out into a run, knowing Tom would be right on his tail.
"You can't run from me Harry!" Tom yelled playfully, and Harry's shouts of laughter rang through the white noise of the rain as he legged it towards the gardens, bare feet occasionally slipping on the slick grass.
Thus, the chase really began. Tom followed Harry through wild over grown hedges, over stone paths, and around thick bushels of flowers, both natural and planted. Tom couldn't, nor did he want to, stop the grin that had over taken his face as he pursued the spritely Ravenclaw through the gardens as the rain continued to soak them both to the bone.
His eyes never leaving the thin form as it fled from his reaching grasp, white dress shirt clinging to his back and shoulders, black curls still springing with each movement. Even as they dripped and some stuck to his forehead and neck. Sometimes Harry would look back over his shoulder at him, eyes alight and straight white teeth appearing between his soft rose pink lips as he beamed and lightly taunted Tom into catching up.
When they left the gardens and Harry tried to run across the lawn towards the front of the property, Tom finally caught up and in a blink of an eye he was grabbing Harry around the waist from behind, swinging him up off the ground and using their momentum to spin Harry around while he shouted at Tom and bubbled with unrestrained laughter, Tom's own dulcet chuckle pressed into Harry's clothed wet shoulder blade. Tom didn't want the sound pouring from the younger male to end, so a moment later, he let Harry go and they continued to run around in the rain, chasing each other or just simply soaking in the otherworldly feeling of letting go and being out in the middle of the summer storm. . .
Eventually, though, they exhausted themselves and walked back to the manor, sopping wet, cheeks sore from grinning and bellies tight from laughter, a rosy flush on their faces. Tom scooped up his abandoned, dripping robe as they walked, and Harry summoned his shoes. Harry spent the last minute it took to walk to the back door they'd come out of, appreciating his last few moments of the rain.
They entered the house and the difference between wet and dry became all too apparent when Tom's shoes audibly squelched from all the water and Harry snorted before he could help it. Tom glared, though his lips twitched as well to give him away. Tom finally freed his yew wand from the dripping robe and was about to cast a drying spell on them both when footsteps came hurrying down a hallway and a moment passed as he and Harry turned to the sound before Philias came into view.
"There you are, Tom, I was looking all over for you." Phil sighed in relief, looking like he'd searched nearly every room in the manor himself before coming upon them. Though, considering where they were currently, that wasn't unlikely.
"What's the matter?" Tom asked, once again serious, even as water steadily dripped from his dark locks. Phil seemed to just then notice the state Tom was in, and then he noticed Harry beside him, just as wet. Phil seemed to conclude that it wasn't worth asking about and instead kept on topic.
"It's actually good you're here as well, Harry, as I was going to send you a letter about it later. I came here because I have been hearing rumors at the Ministry about Fudge trying to pass a law to give himself the authority to go over the official Hogwarts Board of Governors to make changes to the Educational Decrees and even add his own. Usually I wouldn't worry about Fudge being able to pass anything on his own, but this time it seems important enough for him to pay his way into the fast lane and get it approved in just a couple of weeks." Phil informed, Harry frowned.
"Looks like Fudge's paranoia that Dumbledore's trying to take his job has met its breaking point. With that kind of authority, he could make any changes to the school he wanted, if he's crafty enough. Probably trying to get Dumbledore sacked." Harry said, feeling annoyance prickle through the back of his mind. He knew it would only be a matter of time until Fudge and Dumbledore went at it, he had just hoped Hogwarts wouldn't be between them when they did.
"Well, Dumbledore isn't making it very hard for him. From what I've heard he hasn't even been trying to find a replacement professor for Moody. He's passed the date in which he needs to officially appoint someone so that they could be approved by the Board of Governors and apparently, he's been ignoring all summons to the Ministry. I wouldn't be surprised if he found himself out of a job by next summer." Phil shook his head, looking both stressed and exasperated. Then the older man gave Harry a look of concern.
"You should be especially careful, Harry. Fudge has always disliked how much influence you hold over the public, just by nature of your history. If he's making a play for Hogwarts, then I worry just what he's willing to do to gain back control." Philias' words sparked a wariness in Harry. He's perfectly content with letting Dumbledore and Fudge go at each other's throats, but he's about to be returning to Hogwarts in a few short weeks and he'd really prefer to not have his own life affected by their tantrums.
"I'll keep that in mind. I have a few people I can talk to in the Ministry, I'll contact a few and make sure I have one ear to the ground from now on." Harry assured. Though, really his 'contacts' consisted of Lucius and Death, that would hopefully be enough.
"Thank you, Green. We'll talk more later." Tom politely dismissed Phil when they had lulled into a contemplative silence. Phil seemed ready to say something, but another glance at the pairs' soaked appearances had him closing his lips and giving a curt nod before walking away.
They both dried off and began walking towards a comfortable sitting room they had each come to favor over the past few days. As they walked, a thought struck Harry after seeing Philias.
"Where are the others?" He looked over at Tom curiously, noting that the other young man still looked more relaxed than usual, despite the earlier news.
"Hmm?"
"You know, Bellatrix and Barty. I've seen Philias are here plenty, but I have yet to see those two. I know that they were staying here before the resurrection." For a brief moment, Harry wondered if Tom might be keeping them away because of Harry—either not wanting Harry to see them, or them to see Harry—but Tom knew that Harry had interacted with them before and surely they knew about Harry by now, right?
"Ah yes. That." A shallow frown pulled at Tom's face as he thought for a moment. "In the beginning, after the resurrection, I kept everyone away so that I could figure a lot of things out—mainly, who I am now and what I believe. That being said, there's still a lot I'm unsure of, a lot I have yet to figure out. What I mean is . . . before the resurrection I had many plans—granted, they were horrible plans, but they were plans—and those two were very much looking forward to those plans. Green is an exception because he was working for you and obviously wouldn't have been receptive to what I would have done if I hadn't changed directions. It's just that, I'm not sure how they would react if I told them of these changes, and if my future goals turned out to be something they don't agree with." Tom's voice was calm and careful, but a small tint of real anxiety bled through enough for Harry to see it.
Harry took his time thinking about what he'd said and deciding how to respond. He was beginning to consider Tom a friend, though, so he would be honest with him.
"I think . . . you're a very powerful man, Tom. No matter what your goals and actions were before, you cannot deny that you built your own empire. You were insane and merciless, but I don't think that was the reason you gained such a following, I believe it was despite all of that which allowed you to reach the position that you did. The way I see it, people joined you because you're a natural leader and have a way of invoking loyalty in people—it's something that I think you started when you were young that just became twisted and warped over time." Harry looked over to see Tom listening to his words and truly digesting what he was saying. Tom wanted to learn.
"I think you may have allowed your people to indulge their dark appetites far too much. I think that there will be those who don't agree with whatever direction you decide to take, but the ones who will be of any value to you moving forward—both as an ally and a friend—are those that are willing to adjust and will understand whatever decision you make. That goes for your former followers as a whole, for Bellatrix and Barty specifically, those two seemed particularly invested in you, Tom, not just your goals. I don't believe you'll have any issues from those two. If you are eventually planning on meeting with the others, then they are definitely a good place to start."
They arrived at the sitting room, Harry was about to enter when he was stopped by the light weight of a hand wrapping around his elbow. He turned back and looked up at Tom, who stood no more than a foot away. The height difference had never felt so prominent until then, standing in the doorway, his chin tilted back so he could look up into the enrapturing depths of midnight blue. Harry blinked, all his lingering thoughts fizzing out in his skull.
"Thank you, Harry. This past week or so, I have enjoyed your company more than you could know. You are fast becoming one of the greatest friends I have ever had and I appreciate everything you've done for me." He gently squeezed Harry's arm with a small smile before letting go and entering the room. Harry smiled at Tom's back, something swooping in his stomach like a bird curving through the air.
After that day, Harry started spending almost more time in the Riddle manor than at home. Any lingering uncertainty between them disappeared with that summer storm. The conversations grew longer. The casual touch on the arm or hand became familiar and was no longer followed by a note of hesitance. Tom was more open to talking about his private thoughts and how he was adjusting to everything and possible ventures in the future. Harry was more forthcoming about his past 'adventures' and experiences and even his time spent pouring over Death's book in order to master necromancy.
It took only a day for Tom to bring his two faithful followers back to the manor. Harry had arrived for his visit and Tom had immediately jumped into the conversation he had with those two. He eagerly told Harry that, in the end, it went just as he said it would. When Tom told them that they would not be going forward with their previous plans, they had been surprisingly complicit. Barty had only been slightly disappointed by the news, but only for a moment, and Bellatrix apparently hadn't batted an eye.
After being pushed away for so long since the resurrection, the two Death Eaters had been relieved to see that Tom was doing so well.
Tom then warned Harry that both of them were currently staying at the manor once more and that he had told them both that Harry would be visiting frequently and that they weren't, under any circumstances, allowed to hurt him. They both knew quite well that Harry couldn't die, so it pleased him to know that Tom was trying hard to make Harry comfortable in his home.
It was just as Tom had finished speaking that the door of the sitting room they were in was suddenly opened, without a polite knock to warn them. In came Bellatrix. She was looking far healthier and more cleaned up than the last time he'd seen her—which had been the Quidditch World Cup, if he remembered correctly.
Her hair was still a wild mane of dark curls and ringlets, but now they looked glossy and like they had finally met a comb while still wet. Her fair skin had a peachy hint instead of ghostly grey. Her cheeks were no longer sunken around her sharp bone structure, her frame wasn't so skeletal anymore, and her clothes—though still dark and eccentric even for a witch—were cleaner and neater without the tears and holes in her skirts. She still looked predatory and dangerous, but she no longer seemed a moment away from throwing off her clothes and dancing around a raging fire under the full moon.
Overall, an improvement. Considering that Harry had been there to watch the grueling process of trying rehabilitate someone after a decade in Azkaban, Bellatrix was doing well. Even with the wonders of magic and potions, it was not a simple process, nor an easy fix. Every now and then, Sirius would still have days when his joints would ache something fierce, which had nothing to do with his age, considering the wizard was still considered quite young for their kind. A mix of the harsh conditions, lack of proper food, and even past injuries that never healed properly while incarcerated—it had left its mark on the man, that was sure.
Bellatrix bent into a deep, respectful bow. It was far less subservient than dropping to the ground before the mighty Dark Lord as Harry knew the old Voldemort had made his followers do. A glance at Tom told Harry that the bow was not something he had asked Bellatrix to do instead, it seemed that Bella was not quite ready to let go of some habits. She seemed perfectly happy to keep treating Tom as a master instead of an ally. Which was confirmed when she spoke.
"My lord, I-" She stopped talking the moment her dark eyes landed on Harry and her lord seemed to completely escape her thoughts.
"Oh Harry." There was revelry in her gaze and tone as she swept over to the couch he was sat on and seated herself right beside him. "The beautiful bird has finally returned." She mused as she watched him without blinking. Harry smiled pleasantly at the woman.
"Hello, Bellatrix."
"It has been a year since I've seen you last, sweet Harry." She lifted a hand to brush her fingertips under his chin, lips pulling back over her teeth in a wide grin. "You have grown so much since then. One day, the world will come to its knees for this face." The surety in her voice amused Harry. He was sure she was imagining it now as her eyes became slightly unfocused; crowds of people dropping down before him in some grandiose display of worship. Bellatrix had always been peculiar.
"Then, I will count on you to protect my honor from the masses." Harry played along, a smile curving over his lips as he spoke.
"It would be a greatest pleasure, little bird." Bellatrix looked ready to reach out towards Harry again to either caress his face, or maybe embrace him. However, she was stopped by the gentle clearing of a throat. She looked to her lord, clearly unapologetic in her wandering attention.
"Was there something you needed, Bellatrix?" Tom asked, slightly intrigued by the interaction between Harry and Bellatrix. She seemed rather taken with his younger companion. Not in a romantic way or anything, more like . . . more like one would be enchanted by a beautiful flower or a rare and valuable songbird in a gilded cage. The latter thought almost had Tom huffing under his breath at its connection with the witch's previous words, referring to him as a bird.
Not that any of Harry's features were bird-like, the younger male was clearly very lovely and attractive. It was more that there was something distinctly elegant and almost delicate to the boy and the way he moved. Which, in and of itself, is an absurd thought because Tom knew how powerful and capable Harry was. There was also something freeing about Harry. The way he saw the world, the way he experienced it, it was like he had a connection to everything in a way no one else did—like he had another sense that allowed him to interpret his surroundings at some unknown angle. It was enticing to parts of Tom's mind he hadn't known were even there.
"Not particularly, I was just curious to know what had captured our Lord's attention raptly enough to cause him to forget breakfast. Though, now I see exactly how one could have been distracted." She said while turning her attention back towards Harry, reaching out to touch one of his onyx curls almost adoringly. His hair did look quite soft. Tom blinked.
When he processed her words, Tom felt a flicker of surprise. He had been planning on waiting for Harry and then moving down to the dining room as soon as he got there. But the moment Harry arrived, he'd been completely absorbed in their conversation. At the reminder, his stomach gave a dull twinge and he could already see Harry turning a critical eye on him.
Ever since Harry had started visiting him, he had not relented in his self-imposed-duty to always be sure that Tom was taking the utmost care of himself. At first it had been a little strange—since never in his life had anyone come close to 'doting' on him the way Harry had. Not from his followers, not from his Hogwarts friends, not from the Matrons of Wool's Orphanage. Now, Tom found it a blend of unorthodox and endearing.
"Then I supposed now is as good a time as any." Tom relented, fighting off an amused smile as he watched Harry's stare immediately soften into a pleased, triumphant expression at not having to coerce Tom into going now.
The trio shared light, friendly conversation as they walked to the dining-room. Bellatrix doing most of the talking as she walked with her arm looped around Harry's, them being nearly the same height with Harry an inch or two taller, and Tom walking behind the pair. Secretly, Tom observed Harry's profile as they walked. He was truthfully going to despise the day when Harry returned to Hogwarts and he could no longer see the raven every day.
If he wasn't who he was, if his past wasn't what it was, if he had never donned the title of 'Dark Lord,' Tom probably would have found a way to sneak onto Hogwarts grounds to at least continue to have tea with Harry once a day. If he was just a normal adolescent who had met Harry over the summer, he knew he would be there at every Hogsmeade trip, using one of the many secret passages and tunnels to discretely get into the school and steal just a little bit of the boy's time. Tom knew that because of the circumstances, he would have to be careful corresponding with the other while he was away at school, but he also knew he would still take every opportunity he got.
For now, he would bask in the long hours of the raven's company until his time ran out. And when he left, Tom would write to him until his hands cramped and hold on tightly to memories of warm rain against his skin, melodic laughter, taunting and invigorating words, and a clothed, wet shoulder blade pressed against his cheek.
