Disclaimer: Refer to the first page.
A/N: Sorry for the late update. Just as a warning - I'll be very slow at updating from now on with all my fics. Sorry !
The bright light sneaked in from the gap between the curtains. The room lighted up in an eerie greenish colour. Hitting the surface of the mirror, the ray of sunlight hit on the face of the sleeping figure on the floor just beside the large bed.
With a moan, the figure moved a little. Opening his right eye a crack, he quickly closed it again. The glaring light had nearly blinded his eye. It might not be as bright as in the open under the sun, but for his poor eyes that had adjusted to the dark these few days, there was no difference.
Dragging his body a bit to the left, Harry opened his eyes. Before he could anything in, his eyes started to water. He blinked the tears away and renewed his efforts. When his eyes were finally used to the sudden brightness, he found that he still couldn't see clearly. Only then did he realize that he did not have his spectacles on.
The day he woke up in this room, he did not have his spectacles as well. After Voldemort had gone out and locked him in, he found them on the desk besides the table. He had been wearing them since then.
Harry frowned. What happened? His memories were so messy. After that day, the room had been cast into darkness. He couldn't even see his own hand in front of him. There was never any light until now.
Harry took a sweep around him. His sight was blurry but he knew that the room was in a mess. He remembered throwing things before the darkness came. After that, he had been stumbling around in the room; most of the time, he fell over one thing or another.
Suddenly, his stomach grumbled loudly. Pressing his right hand to his mid-section, Harry wrinkled his face. He had lost count of how many days he had gone without food. In fact, he couldn't even know how many days had gone by even if he remembered to count. Harry leaned back onto the bed with his eyes closed.
He tried to tell himself that this was nothing. He should just endure it like he did at the Dursleys. But who was he kidding? People had lied and manipulated him for all his life. If he did that to himself as well, then he really was pathetic.
He was now really living a nightmare. As bad as the Dursleys were, at least they gave him enough sustenance to survive. They might not be the best conversationalists, but they were at any rate still living beings that he could interact with, as unpleasant as every encounter was.
Locked in the dark with nothing to do and no one to talk to, the only thing he could spend time on was thinking. He had thought long and hard - going through his memories, thinking of what he could have done differently, all the 'ifs' that could have happened, who should be blamed, and how he wished the future would be.
No matter what he thought of, he realized a few things: what came to pass had already happened - there was nothing he could do to change things. Whether he blamed himself or others he had to admit that just like making potions, several ingredients were needed. There were rules and steps to be followed or the potion would not be successful. Same, without the key people and incidents, all the tragedies in his life would not have happened. He could not put the blame solely on one person – either himself, Dumbledore or Voldemort. There was always a chain that led to the next incident. With this realization, came the understanding that he was not the only one in control of his own future but that did not mean that he should just let go and become a puppet that danced to the tune of his owner. Instead, he should work harder to accomplish what he wanted in order to get the future he wanted; he should be his own owner.
This new insight did not lessen his hatred for Voldemort though. After all, he was still only a human; he couldn't get past the feelings that if it wasn't for the monster, he would have a better life.
Harry laughed. He was contradicting himself. Muggles often said that humans needed contact with other humans in order to stay sane. He had gone for so long without that he was probably already insane. Another bark of mad laughter escaped his lips before they turned into choked sounds of cries.
Tears welled up behind his tightly closed lids but he refused to let them out. Hugging his knees, he waited for the moment to pass. Pain of hunger could never compete with pain of hopelessness – that was what he realized at that second. He did not know why, in the dark, he could still hang onto that very slight flicker of hope but now that it was bright, he felt such despondency as he had never before.
The faint click of the door opening alerted Harry of the intruder. Hastily wiping his eyes dry, he schooled his expressions into that of anger and glared at the gentle face of Tom Riddle.
"I have brought you some food." Putting down the tray full with steaming food on the table, Tom turned to look at his mate. Prickles of pain stabbed into his heart at the condition the tiny figure was in. Before this, he had never thought of Harry as tiny even though he was a bit smaller than boys of his age should be. Right now, he seemed like he had shrunk a few sizes. Guilt ate away at him but he pushed it out; he was only delivering punishment as he had said he would, he convinced himself. "Come and eat something.
The aroma of the delicious food wafted into Harry's nose reminding him even more vividly of his empty stomach. He was torn between the food and maintaining his stubborn hateful glower. In the end, his weak body made the decision for him; he couldn't find the strength to move towards the table. Thus, he continued glaring at the detestable person before him.
Tom frowned; annoyance started to creep into his being. "Don't you want to eat?" he asked his voice tight with irritation. Damn Griffindor pride! "Aren't you hungry at all? It's been five days." He tried to control his rising anger.
Harry would have call the Dark Lord in front of him an idiot if he trusted his vocal cord right now but he refrained; he did not want to embarrass himself by croaking like a frog in front of the terrible monster. Instead, he settled for turning up a notch of his glare.
Tom finally couldn't stand it anymore. "Fine! If you do not want to eat, starve to death. See if I care! Hmph!" With his green robe billowing behind him, he stormed out of the room, not forgetting to lock it behind him.
Harry let out a sigh of relief as soon as he was alone once more. He slumped back against the bed. He did not remain in that position for long though. The wafting smell of the food pulled at him. As weak as he was right now, the temptation of good food was enough to give him back enough strength to drag himself to the table. A bitter smile tugged on his lips.
On the other hand, Tom was still being burnt crisp by his own fire of anger. If there was anyone there, they would definitely hear him muttering something angrily. "Stupid Griffindor! Pride would be your death. Starve yourself as much as you want. I don't care." He repeated these few sentences over and over again. Although he was moving all the time, he was making no progress to get further away from the room the culprit of his anger was in. The worst Dark Lord the world had ever seen was walking to and fro just in front of the door he had stormed out from. Luckily for him, no one was there to see his uncharacteristic actions.
"Stupid boy. Your body was already so weak yet you still want to starve…" Suddenly Tom stopped his movements and his muttering. Understanding dawned. "Why did I not think of it? He had gone five days without food; he would surely be too weak to move. He was not starving himself but just unwilling to ask for help." At the realization, Tom was about to storm right back in but he stopped with his hand on the door knob. He wanted very much to go in yet he couldn't disregard his own pride as well. What should he do? Apologize? Or should he act as if nothing had happened? Undecided, he silently opened the door a little. From the tiny crack, he saw the efforts his mate made to get to the food. He stood there just like that until he saw the boy finally eating. Only then did he stepped back from the doorway and closed it as silently as he opened it.
Leaning against the wall beside the door, Tom kept on telling himself that it was Harry's own fault for not telling him and asking for help. "Damn pride!" he cursed before he pushed away from the cold wall and walked away. It was not clear who he was scolding - Harry, himself, or the both of them.
A/N: So how was it? I know 5 days are a bit extreme but I want to show the cruelty plus the damn pride of Voldemort as well. Tell me what you think ok?