AN: Thank you all so much! I'm sorry this chapter took a while, my new job started. I was also mentally wrestling with Regulus and Harry about how different reveals would go.
Teaching History (is Old News)
27 - Family Curses
Sleep creeps up on Tom in a suffocating embrace choking him in nightmares of his Harry in bars, of the Monster stabbing him in the heart, of Tom looking in the mirror and seeing a snake face staring back.
When Tom gasps awake, he grasps for Harry immediately, only to find his arms already full.
At some point in the night, Harry ended up trapped in Tom's arms, and now he snores softly into Tom's chest, as if he fell asleep listening to Tom's heart beat.
The closet door still remains closed.
Harry's weight against Tom is steady and for the first time, Tom just closes his eyes, taking the moment in. Harry's sweater is soft to the touch, an expensive brand of yarn that feels almost like silk. Even Harry's hair is soft against Tom's chin, sugar sweet from all the baking. His breathing calms away the lingering nightmares from Tom's mind.
Tom's never seen the appeal of sleeping in or really understood why idiots seek each other out just for friendly touch, but if it always feels like this, then he could lie like this forever.
…And then he feels a heavy weight shifting over his shoulders, curling down on him.
[Nagini?] Tom frowns, shaking off the memory of Not-Nagini crushing his body together, trapping him, holding him up to the Monster as a prize. [What are you doing?]
She snuggles closer to him and Harry. [Joining the cuddle pile! I'm so happy you've finally mated!]
[Cuddle—what?! We're not mated! We merely slept together in the same bed!]
Nagini tilts her head in confusion. [I don't understand. I thought 'sleeping together' was one of the requirements of human copulation. Your strange ducks told me so.]
Sure enough, the Death Eater ducks are all lined up at the door, peeking curiously at them with scandalized oink-not-quacks. He slams the door wandlessly and obliviates them of the memory of Harry's sleeping face, never mind that ducks have limited memory space.
[You shouldn't listen to the Death Ducks!] Tom scowls. Never mind, he did not miss her at all during his trip. [Sleeping has nothing to do with mating!]
[Then why do you humans have so many 'codes' for things? Why can you not say what you mean? Even the Pigeon agrees with me!]
In the corner, Hedwig sits on top of the dresser, glowering at Tom. The demon owl hoots in retort, probably to the 'pigeon' comment. Tom feels grateful that he will never know how to speak Bird. If Tom hadn't put the ban of 'no owls allowed within one meter of himself,' he has no doubt that the demon bird would be joining the cuddle pile. For a familiar who's supposed to lay down her life for Harry, she cares more about singed feathers than loyalty.
[Shut up Pigeon, I was just about to ask him! No, I'm not trying to prolong my cuddle time, how dare you accuse me of such a thing. I can get cuddles whenever I want, you're just jealous, you petty little—]
Harry shifts in his sleep, mumbling about pancakes into Tom's shirt. [Ask your question or be quiet!] Tom shifts his arms tighter around Harry.
[Where have you been with Green Eyes for over a day, if not mating?] Nagini demands. Hedwig adds a particularly hard hoot to which Nagini hisses, [I will not translate that profanity.] Hedwig's glare promises deep owl-y vengeance.
[We were…] Tom doesn't think about Feral Harry's pale neck so close to fang-point, one slash away from death, he doesn't think about tearing apart the Monster's mind and seeing the choices that he could have made, the thrill of using the dark arts and crucio-ing his not-Harry— […occupied. It's not important. What happened while we were away?]
He was supposed to have a meeting on Saturday with Hagrid and the Dragon-keeping Weasley for that research project. But he and Harry were apparently gone for most of Friday evening and almost all of Saturday. The proposed research plan seems like an eternity ago, something that happened to another Tom.
[The half-giant and the red-haired Wheezy came to find you. When you and Green Eyes were nowhere to be found, they sounded the alarm! Oh, and then that guardian of Green Eyes almost burned down your nest because he couldn't find Green Eyes.]
Regulus Black? [I didn't see him last night when the Weasley twins were being interrogated.]
[I think he left, convinced that some Grindylow… Grindelbear… maybe? Had captured Green Eyes.]
Ah yes. Tom's eyes narrow. Grindelwald. One of the first things on his new list to becoming the most superior Tom Riddle. Grindelwald has to die and Tom needs to find out everything about his Harry's connection to Grindelwald.
[Did he say anything else?]
[No. He was interrupted by that annoying blond human, the one that always lusts after my Green Eyes.]
[Malfoy?!] Tom grips Harry so tight, Harry's breath stutters but thankfully continues slumbering. [Why was he poking about?!]
[I don't know. Something about the Ministry. He started yelling about calling his father to get a search party started, he was very loud after that and too distracting.]
[I'll have to find out what business he has at Hogwarts and stop it,] Tom hisses. He'll tolerate Longbottom, Chang, and Diggory around his Harry. They're Harry's… friends, even if Tom detests them. But Draco Malfoy belongs in a special circle of loathing for his greedy little eyes.
[Maybe I can bite him!]
[No!] Tom says too quickly, pushing away the memory of Not-Nagini salivating over human flesh. [That's not necessary. I'll handle him on my own.]
[But Master—]
There's a big crash downstairs… and many startled oinks.
[…Nagini, what was that?]
[Those strange ducks are trying to get into Green Eyes's pastry hoard again.]
Tom doesn't comment on how ducks cannot eat pastries without becoming extremely ill. Maybe if he's lucky, his Death Ducks will accidentally poison themselves and he won't have to think of what fate will befall his Death Eaters now that he needs to rework his Dark Lord agenda.
Some very human swears resound from downstairs.
Tom leaps out of the bed, wand ready, two angry familiars storming behind him, as they all rush downstairs and see—
Rubeus Hagrid and Charlie Weasley emerging from the floo, both looking terribly sooty from head to toe. Hagrid, the giant imbecile, is hopping on one foot, swearing up a storm from accidentally hitting his shin against something. The Dragonkeeping Weasley seems to be attempting to calm him with no effect. All the Death Ducks oink and surround them in a non-threatening circle.
"What are you doing here uninvited?" Tom hisses, still holding up his wand. "You'll wake Harry."
"Sorry, sorry!" Dragon Weasley puts his arms up in surrender, "We just wanted to check up on you! The floo was open and we were worried you had both disappeared again, we won't wake Harry…" Dragon Weasley looks towards the empty hammock and frowns. "Um, where is Harry?"
"Upstairs," Tom bites out. "Resting."
"Oh? Ohhhh!" Dragon Weasley's face breaks out into an alarming smile, a Weasley-twin-about-to-ruin-your-day smile. "That's great! We're very happy for you, right, Hagrid?"
"…Always thought Percy or Diggory would be Harry's type—ow!" Hagrid winces when Dragon Weasley elbows him. "I mean, you better make Harry happy, ya hear? I may not like ya but Harry does and he deserves the world! If I hear anything fishy happening to Harry because of ya, then I'll hunt you down and—"
Dragon Weasley slaps Hagrid's back far too aggressively to be casual. "Give the guy a break, Hagrid! They just got back together again! I'm sure Riddle knows that there's a lot of people who care about Harry who would be very upset if there was another fallout between them, causing Harry's health, yet again, to fall. Right?"
…How is Dragon Weasley smiling like that? All teeth bared in a clear challenge.
Tom glowers. "I would never knowingly do anything to cause Harry harm. Now unless you have actual business with me or Harry, then you can leave. Harry or I will firecall you when deemed necessary."
His two unwanted guests exchange glances before they burst into irritating chuckles, making the Death Ducks oink and waddle about in panic.
"You…!" Weasley snorts, "You're alright, Riddle! Forgot how terrifying you can be when it comes to your Harry!"
"I didn't," Hagrid grumbles, likely still remembering how Tom broke all of Aragog's legs and left the beast to crawl in terror to the forest, never to return. Or how Tom laced Hagrid's dreams with torturous nightmares using some creative dark arts that Hagrid will never be able to prove.
"But we also came to check up on you too, Riddle! You are our research partner now."
"Yes, yes, thank you for the courtesy call," Tom scowls, too irritated to play nice. "Now leave—"
"Aw, but we wanted to reschedule our missed research meeting—"
"Oh! And ask you about all those fascinating creatures you met in Albania! There must have been all sorts of magnificent things—"
The floor suddenly lights up as yet another nuisance appears. Why the hell didn't Tom lock the floo shut before he fell asleep?
"Where's Harry?!" Draco Malfoy flails about, looking paler than ever. "I know you took him, Riddle, where are you keeping him—"
Another green flash floods the fireplace, blinding them all as Regulus Black marches out next, face livid, and shouts, "RIDDLE YOU BASTARD—"
"ENOUGH!" Tom roars, Nagini and Hedwig hissing and hooting in agreement behind him. "Are there any other unexpected guests that I should know about?!"
A knock on the door makes it swing open, revealing Longbottom, Diggory, and Chang, bearing flowers.
"Um…" Longbottom sweats. "Is this a bad time?"
"Are you having a party and didn't invite us?!" Chang exclaims.
"No." Tom wandlessly shuts the door in their faces. "I need you all to leave," he addresses the rest of the unwanted intruders, "Before Harry wakes up—"
"Probably locked in a cage somewhere!" Malfoy pipes up.
Nagini hisses at him.
"What?!" Regulus Black panics, "Where's Harry you—"
Tom sighs and stares at his Death Ducks, Nagini, and Hedwig. "Just… attack. Or flap. Or whatever you need to do."
All creatures, serpentine and feathered, pounce on the intruders. Their screams (or cries of delight from the animal lovers, Hagrid and Weasley) finally bring Tom peace.
"…Wha's goin' on…?" Harry groggily peeks out the door. He's covered in Tom's fluffy blankets, bundled up as if preparing for winter.
"Nothing to be concerned about." Tom immediately blocks his view. "Go back to bed."
"Is Draco being slowly suffocated by the Death Eater Ducks?"
"…Not exactly. They're failing at it."
Indeed, the Death Ducks are trying to stack on top of each other to create a weight lethal enough to crush Malfoy to death. Obviously not working.
"Right… right… Regulus?!" Harry pales, seeing his other godfather being pecked by Hedwig.
"Harry!" Regulus immobilizes Hedwig, storming over to his godson like a murderer on a warpath.
"Shit. Hide me," Harry ducks under Tom's arms, as if they will shield him from everything. "I'm not here—"
"Harry James Potter, get over right now, do you have any idea how worried I've been?!"
"Regulus, I can explain!"
"No! No explanations! You're going home! You're going to listen to me! You're going to see Sirius and you're going to stop shacking up with Riddle this instant!"
"Regulus, I'm an adult, I can live with who I want!"
"Not him!"
"Yeah, you tell him, Black!" Malfoy raises his hand under the pile of ducks.
"Shut up Malfoy!" comes Black's hiss, blasting Malfoy back into the floo from whence he came. Hopefully to land in a terrible place that he can never return from.
"But wait, I need to warn H—" Malfoy's body disappears into the flames.
Weasley and Hagrid, watching the back-and-forth like muggles might watch a fast-paced tennis match, slowly back away towards the floo. "We'll… come back later, Riddle. Owl us if you need anything!"
"Good to see you, buddy!" Dragon Weasley adds.
"We're. Not. Buddies," Tom grits out.
But they leave just as Black threatens to turn Hedwig into a stone paperweight, much to Nagini's delight.
"You wouldn't!"
"Oh I would!" Black bellows, pointing his wand at a still-immobilized Hedwig whose eyes are frantically darting around for help. "And I won't give her back until you come home!"
"I can't, not until I finish what I have to do!"
"That's ridiculous! Just come home and see Sirius!"
"If I see Sirius, I won't want to come back and you know it!" Harry stops, looking horrified, as he slaps his hand against his mouth, and pulls away from Tom. Black's aggressive stance falters for a moment, but he keeps his head high, staring at Harry silently.
"…Maybe," he admits.
A numb cold, the way it felt after Tom tore himself from the Monster's mind, descends on him. "Harry," he hears himself say so evenly, so calmly. "What does Black mean by that?"
"Nothing," Harry shakes his head, stepping away. "Don't listen to me. Or him. Everything I say is nonsense anyways—"
"Not about the important things, not about your family. Not about this. Don't run away again," Tom raises his voice. "Just tell me what's happening!"
"You have no right to poke your nose in our family's business—" Black starts.
"But he does!" Harry shouts, then slaps his hand over his mouth again, looking unsure.
Black fumbles with his words. "Harry. You remember what happened in Seventh Year. Don't trust him again."
Seventh Year? Tom wants to scoff. He and Harry avoided each other back then. He hardly did anything of note to Harry.
Harry pulls the blanket tighter around himself, looking too much like Feral Potter did in that cage, taking comfort in the only thing left he owned. His Harry shouldn't look like that. Ever. What did this to him? How can Tom destroy it?
"Please," Tom reaches out to cradle the blanket away from his hair. "I… I need to know."
He doesn't know how else to describe it.
Harry closes his eyes.
"Alright," he sighs. "I'll show you."
Black's face twists. "You're bringing him too? But…"
"I know what I said before. But things are different now. Besides, if Tom doesn't come with me… I'm not sure if I'll have the strength to come back here afterwards. I… I need him to come with me. Please."
Looking haunted and worn, Black only nods. "Fine. But one foot out of line and he's out."
:
Tom doesn't let go of Harry, even when they go through the floo together. He catches Harry as he stumbles and ignores Black's affronted gaze.
Grimmauld Place smells like dust in an abandoned family tomb, the air hazy from all the specks floating from ancient tomes and antique dulled armchairs. Tom spots a house elf angrily tackling several cobwebs only for the spiders to build another web again. The house itself seems to repel any cleaning attempts, determined to look like a relic of the past.
In the foyer, a great portrait of the late Lady Black hangs, watching them with her cold eyes. Upon seeing Regulus Black, she makes a show of turning her back with a pronounced hmph! Black only frowns and keeps walking, the immobilized Hedwig floating behind him, and glancing back to glare at Tom whenever Harry isn't looking.
Harry is uncharacteristically subdued, walking robotically, like a doll. He's so quiet, he could fade into the air, escaping through Tom's fingers.
He tightens his grip, wishing they could tie their hands together. Then Harry wouldn't be able to go where Tom can't follow.
"…We're here," Black stops at a bedroom door upstairs.
The old oak door with intricate etchings of the stars and tree branches looks sad, plastered with obnoxious muggle band posters and painted flames. The posters are frayed at the edges, yellowed with age, and the painted flames are chipping away, the colours drained by the air.
"…Harry," Black hesitates when Harry makes no attempt to open the door. "Perhaps you should go in first, alone. I know this is a lot for you—"
"No, no," Harry shakes his head and reaches for the doorknob. "I want Tom with me."
Tom does his best not to smirk in triumph at Black, but some of his true emotion must slip out unintentionally anyways, when he sees the threat in Black's eyes.
Harry opens the door and what Tom sees is…
A lavish bed, the kind only rich pureblood families can afford, lies in the middle of the room with plush velvet and silk bedsheets. Tucked in the bed, lies a man that was once so vibrant, loud, and obnoxious in his protection of Harry Potter. Instead, he lies, in a deathlike slumber, surrounded by magical protections. He's hooked up to machines like the IV drips in muggle hospitals. A bubble-charm around his head forces him to breathe and stay alive.
Sirius Black is in a magical coma, and Tom never knew.
"…How long?" Tom asks, sensing the need for tact, countless questions fighting in his mind.
Harry moves towards an empty armchair, one with books piled on one armrest, and abandoned knitting needles on the other. From the quilts thrown over the back of the armchair, and the lumpy pillow on the seat, Harry must have spent countless nights curled up by Sirius Black's bedside, reading to him and speaking to him… waiting for him to wake up.
Tom watches as Harry's fingers skate over the surface of the knitting needles, as he avoids looking at Sirius Black.
"Since Fifth Year."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Tom demands.
"Would you have cared?" Regulus Black, apparently still here and disturbing them, sneers from the door.
"Of course, I would have—" But Tom stops.
Before he and Harry started working together, had Tom ever cared about Harry? They were so distant, barely speaking in Sixth and Seventh Year… it feels like a terrible dream… If Harry had never become the Divination Professor, perhaps Tom would never care for Harry again. Perhaps Tom would have become the Monster after all.
(No. He can't ever.)
"Uncle Reggie," Harry says softly, "can you leave us alone for a moment?"
Regulus Black opens his mouth to argue.
But Harry says, "Please," the way he did at the end of Second Year, when Tom held his wand at Dudley Dursley's neck at King's Cross, and what choice does a lesser being like Regulus Black have but to concede to that plea?
"…Ten minutes," he promises, and steps out. "No funny business."
At times like this, Tom is glad he is an orphan with no guardians to limit him. Truly an annoying existence. If it wouldn't ruin Harry's life, Tom would get rid of the Blacks altogether.
"So?" Tom starts, when Harry doesn't speak.
"Sorry," Harry ducks his head down, his paper cranes seeming to droop with him. "Was just… gathering my thoughts."
Tom frowns. There's so much he wants to discuss with Harry, about the closet, about the Monster, about all the other versions of him and Harry that haunt his Harry's thoughts. And Grindelwald as well. But words escape him.
"I know we weren't… close," he watches as Harry slumps further against the armchair, "in school, particularly in our last two years at Hogwarts. But I would have thought you'd tell me about this. At least back in Fifth Year."
But then again, Tom thinks, when would Harry have found the time to tell Tom anything substantial about himself? Especially when Tom was trying to use him for his visions until recently.
"…It's my fault he's like this," Harry says suddenly.
Tom frowns. "How can it be your—"
"Because I tried to stop something terrible from happening and Sirius got hurt. I couldn't see anything in my visions that could have stopped this. Instead, I saw my own selfish wants, I thought with my visions, I might be able to change things. But I was so stupid, so wrong. I saw the wrong future and Sirius might never wake up because of it, because I didn't try to see Sirius."
Harry's shoulders are shaking, his grip on the forgotten needles so tight, Tom has to turn Harry towards him. "What did you see?"
Harry drops the knitting needles back on the armchair. "Nothing important. It never happened. It's always like that. I see things that never happen. And when they do happen, if they do, people blame me. I should have known better."
"Who blames you?!" Tom snarls. "I'll destroy them!"
Harry's laughter becomes hysterical. "It's fine, Tom. Not many people know, or even believe, that I'm a seer. I'm surprised people remembered me, with how much time I took off school…"
That's right. Tom does recall hearing less of Harry's antics in Sixth and Seventh Year. Harry must have taken weeks off school to watch over Sirius Black, doing his schoolwork at home instead. With the Potter inheritance and the Black Vaults, Harry wouldn't need to work another day in his life. If Regulus Black knows of Harry's abilities, his desire to isolate Harry makes sense, born from an overwhelming need to lock Harry up, safe forever…
"This isn't your fault!" Tom snaps, unable to accept the idea. "You couldn't have known that whatever you saw wasn't a vision from your future. You were trying to do the right thing because it's what you always do. Sirius Black made his choice, you didn't choose that for him. You don't have to feel responsible forever."
Don't lock yourself up where I can't find you.
Harry's eyes go misty, much to Tom's alarm, but thankfully no tears erupt.
"If it's alright… I'd like to be alone with him for a bit. It's… been a while."
Tom's grip tightens, nails digging into skin. "But—"
"Don't worry," Harry's lips quirk up half-heartedly. "I have you waiting for me. I won't stay for long."
:
Out in the hall, Tom sees Regulus Black pacing in front of the door. Both of them pause as the door shuts, glaring at each other. Tom doesn't recall interacting much with Regulus Black before this year. Tom assumes Regulus Black became Harry's guardian after Sirius Black had his accident.
"We won't be staying long," Tom says coolly.
Regulus Black grits his teeth. "That's fine. What you have with Harry is temporary anyways. He'll be back home soon enough."
That image of Harry, quiet and alone, by Sirius Black's beside makes Tom snap.
"Don't think I don't know that you're guilting Harry into staying here because of your brother! Did you let him out at all after the incident? Are you going to trap him here from some misplaced parental love? I doubt your brother would have wanted that. He wasn't that kind of man. And if you try to take Harry away from Hogwarts, you will have hell to deal with."
"It's for Harry's own good! You don't know anything of value about Harry—"
"I know that he's a seer, just as you do, and I bet you blame him for what happened to your brother. You don't want it to happen again. That's why you want him here where you can watch him—"
"How dare you! As if you aren't trying to use him! I pay attention to what Harry says, and I can guess well what he's seen about you, Tom Riddle. Such terrible things! And with how you've seduced cousin Bella into your grasp, I know that you only pretend to care about Harry for personal gain! You're just like Grindelwald, you want him for his prophecies!"
"I don't care about his prophecies anymore, not when they destroy him!" Tom roars and he realizes that it's true… These prophecies mean nothing to him if they'll turn Tom into a monster, if they'll make Harry into a doll that can only stare at the family he couldn't save forever and ever… Tom will build a desirable future for the both of them with his own power.
Regulus Black scoffs in Tom's face. "Are you trying to tell me that you've changed? That you suddenly care about him? Are you even capable of love?"
"What does love have to do with anything?" Tom hisses. He cares about Harry, isn't that enough? Tom will never be able to love anyone, not after what his mother did to his muggle father.
"Merlin. What a joke." Regulus Black shakes his head, making Tom want to push him off a cliff. "You don't know anything. How can you claim to care about Harry when there's still so much you don't know about him? Do you even remember standing him up two years ago?"
"What are—"
But Tom falters.
The memory is hazy, back when Tom wanted nothing to do with Harry. He'd been planning his visit, to meet his father for the first time, when Harry had uncharacteristically asked for a meeting. Tom dismissed Harry, but perhaps Harry had interpreted his shrug as an affirmative. Perhaps on the day Tom murdered his father, Harry had waited in Hogsmeade… all alone.
Regulus Black sneers. "I see that you do. Harry waited hours for you, just to give you this ugly antique. But you never came. I don't think he's ever worked up the courage to try and give it to you again."
Tom nearly gapes at him. A… gift? When he and Harry weren't even friends in Seventh Year?
"Why would he give me a present? He and I were nothing to each other back then."
If Tom thought he had seen Regulus Black angry before, it is nothing compared to now. "Nothing?!" his voice thunders as he marches up to shove Tom back against the door. "You two were nothing to each other?!"
"Mr. Black," Tom snaps, tired of dealing with Harry's unstable relatives, "You're overreacting—"
"Accio Locket! "Regulus Black bellows, and something gold whizzes through the air, nearly hitting Tom's head. Regulus Black catches it and dangles the object in Tom's face. "Does this gift, that my godson saved and wasted so much gold to get for you, look like nothing?!"
Tom stares, uncomprehending, at Slytherin's Locket hanging in front of his eyes. His mother's locket, the locket he swore he'd take back once he tracked it down. It's here, in Regulus Black's hands, because his Harry tried to bring it to him.
"I… I don't understand…" This must have cost a fortune. "Why would he do this for me?"
Regulus Black looks like an impatient teacher trying to show a child why 2 + 2 = 4. "Because he loves you! He's always loved you! What other reason could he possibly have for dawdling over this locket for over two years?!"
Tom can think of plenty of reasons. Perhaps Harry decided not to give him the locket because other Voldemorts have used it as a horcrux. Perhaps Harry saw the murder Tom would commit for the locket, perhaps Harry was… afraid… of him.
( unacceptable.)
"…You don't believe me," Regulus Black throws his hands up in the air. "Fine. Whatever. Just take it," he shoves the locket into Tom's hands. "Take it and let my godson down gently. Then don't come back. Don't haunt him anymore. He doesn't need to think about you any longer."
"NO!" Tom hisses, shoving the locket back at Regulus Black. "Harry's mine. He's staying by my side. He'll give me the locket when he's ready. I don't need to take it from him."
"Why does that matter to you, you don't love him—"
"No, I don't. But I won't let anyone else take him away from me either." Because Tom can't love. He'll never be able to return Harry's affections, if Harry even truly does love him (and that's a joke. Tom's a monster. No one has ever loved him and no one ever should.) But he'd rather keep Harry with him forever then let Harry's love be stolen by anybody else.
If that means he has to become the most superior Tom Riddle, if he has to keep Harry by his side by staying his friend, sabotaging all of Harry's potential suitors, and playing nice, then he will. He's seen a world where Harry almost didn't exist and Tom loathed it.
And if Harry does love Tom… then one day, he'll give Tom that locket willingly. One day, he'll give that locket to Tom and Tom will know he is the only Tom Riddle reflected in Harry's eyes.
And maybe then he can pretend that he's capable of loving Harry back too, if only to keep him.
END NOTES: This is a comedy, the author insists, as she puts Sirius into a coma.
(is stabbed)
EDITED CHAPTER: March 15th, 2020