By BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer

Disclaimer: My initials are not J.K.R., so - no - I don't own Harry Potter.

AN: When I finished 'The Locket', I realized that it would be ever so easy to continue it... in drabbles.

Also, someone asked why there was a picture of Tom Riddle, Sr. in the locket if it was Slytherin's. Pictures in lockets can be replaced and Merope wanted to have a picture of her husband. Simple as that. Whether there is a picture of someone important to Salazar underneath the picture of Tom, that is a different story. #shrugs#

In the Grip of Your Enemy's Soul - The Cup

Start!

"I'm fine, really. Perfectly fine. Wonderfully fine." They didn't believe him. He didn't believe himself.

How could he be fine? He was a horcrux magnet. That morning he had woken up to find the locket 'round his neck and the Gaunt ring on his left ring finger - his wedding finger. That didn't worry him. The fact that they were both whole and undisturbed worried him, but he couldn't feel any magic resonating through them, so he didn't panic. No need to - yet.

Now he was trying to coax them into going to the orphanage to poke around for the next horcrux, but they were both rather stubborn about him resting. Growling, he unconsciously rubbed the band of the Gaunt ring with his thumb. He needed to get the next one. No time to be wasted.

"Every moment we dawdle is a moment another person could die at the hand of a Death Eater or Voldemort - " Ron paled. " - himself or even worse, Snape and Malfoy have probably already reported what we're hunting for, so this lost time may be giving them time to plot and put into action traps or moving the horcruxes to someplace we'd never even think to look." There was a method to his madness. He was just lucky that he'd had the presence of mind to cast a subtle notice-me-not charm on the horcruxes before they had bust in because when he attempted to remove them, they wouldn't budge.

Finally, they agreed.

shift

The orphanage was in horrible disrepair, but Harry had slipped in before Hermione or Ron could try to stall him any longer. The first place he checked was Tom Riddle's old bedroom. It was identical to the pensieve memory of it, including a young Tom Riddle lying on his bed.

"He was afraid of me, you know. He feared me just like everyone else did, but instead of treading lightly like others did he tromped right in and bullied me." Tom looked up, sorrowful eyes staring imploringly into Harry's own. "I had reasons for everything I did, but he didn't know or didn't care, so set that I was some sort of violent and horrible person. Yes, I had Billy Stubb's rabbit hang itself, but only because he had crushed the head of Vita and then tied her by her neck in a tree." Sniffling, he wiped quickly at his suspiciously wet eyes. "Then the stupid lug swore that she had hung herself! Of course, Mrs. Cole believed him over me, but I avenged Vita.

"The others here had a game they played before I learned to control my magic. Do you want to know what it was called?" He had somehow moved from the doorway to stand in front of Tom without really meaning to.

"What was it?" Harry found himself asking,

"Tom Tormenting. They thought themselves so clever, coming up with that name. Magic put a stop to it, not authorities that were responsible for my health, but magic that I used to give them a taste of what they had been doing to me. They were the ones living in fear, losing their precious possessions. That was me no longer, but then Dumbledore came and took me to the most wonderful place in the world, Hogwarts." Smiling widely, Tom stood up on his bed so that he was eye-to-eye with Harry. "Even if Dumbledore was afraid and wary of me, I had found my place." Leaning forward, hands on Harry's shoulders, Tom kissed him chastely. This was not the brutal, devouring kisses of the locket's bit of soul, but it left him feeling light-headed none-the-less.

shift

Opening his eyes, he found himself laying on Tom's dusty bed, clutching the cold, gleaming metal of Hufflepuff's cup. He stood slowly, glancing about the room. It appeared as the rest of the building, dusty and falling apart.

Glancing one more time back at the bed, he ran out of the room, trying to ignore the smaller footprints in the dust around the bed.

TBC...

AN: #waves a white flag from hiding place# At least I didn't go and die or something! I'm still alive, just having difficulties putting what I want to happen into words. That, and I'm rping as Orochimaru from Naruto on Myspace and Chatzy. It's addicting, I tell you!