What Do We Fight For?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything in them belongs to the wonderful J.K Rowling!
WARNING: Slight bit of gore I suppose in this chapter- description of murder
A/N: Wow I got this chapter out quick. Only because most of it was already written I just went over and added some extra things. Slightly longer chapter but I did want to leave it as it was.
Once again, thank you to all those who reviewed, favourited and followed. It means a lot.
Hope you enjoy the chapter
Chapter 5:
It took all of two seconds for Harry's mind to register what he was seeing and another one for him to swiftly dart behind the nearest display; which happened to be showcasing some sort of different coloured rocks with sharp angles.
Again, he found himself grateful for his small figure as it allowed him to stay hidden from view and he prayed Riddle hadn't already noticed him. For once, it seemed, his prayers had been answered for the other boy simply walked straight up to the counter, showing no outward signs of having seen nor heard him. One pale hand reached out and pressed down on the small bell that was positioned on the old wooden counter, the shrill noise echoing round the store and disturbing the ominous silence that had settled over the room.
After only a minute, the beaded hangings that were dangling behind the stand in the archway were pushed aside, revealing a tall wiry man who's skin was pale and ghostlike, stretching over his bones in such a way causing it to look as if it would rip at any second. His eyes were sunken and the pale lips were pressed together in a thin line. When he saw Tom however, the lips parted in a eerie smile that looked anything but friendly, uncovering blackened and yellow teeth with several gaps. All in all, he would look like he belonged in the morgue if not for the luminous blue eyes that sparkled and shone with wisdom and life.
Riddle leaned closer, saying something to the other man who nodded his head in reply. Then, to Harry's slight alarm, he came out from behind the stall and started walking towards him. What caught Harry's attention however was the fact that he was silent. Not a sound was heard from his footsteps or even the natural sound that was breathing. He could have been a ghost if not for his solid form. Suddenly blue eyes met his through the glass and Harry could only stare for a tense moment before those orbs that seemed to penetrate into his soul dismissed him.
Bated breath, preparing for the encounter that never came.
The...Man? Didn't come to where Harry was hiding, instead stopping at the leaning bookcase looking as though it would fall apart at a single touch, and grabbed a book from the shelf. From his position of peering through the misty glass, Harry couldn't yet see the book that had been picked up, and he watched curiously as it was handed to an emotionless Riddle who gripped it almost eagerly in his hands.
Nodding once to the mysterious man, the upcoming Dark Lord simply turned and strode out of the store with the book clutched under his arm. As his back was turned to Harry he was given the full view of the cover of the book and he almost screamed in frustration at the cruelty of the world.
For, peeking out from under Riddle's arm, was the title: 'Soul Bonds' as it gazed mockingly at him. Harry's eyes followed after the book as though it had deeply offended him before the door closed between them and it was gone. It had been so close as well but of course, it had slipped out of his fingers at the last second because of Tom bloody Riddle.
He signed, resigning himself to the fact that he had lost and moved out from his position, the store was once again, empty. The strange man having disappeared to Merlin knows where.
As Harry dishearteningly made his was through Knockturn Alley he was suddenly stopped when a tall, thin figure stepped out in front of him, causing him to pause and glance up at the man before him. A repugnant face stared down at him, it's mouth twisting into an ugly and uninviting smile at the sight of the small boy. Then, a clammy hand clamped down roughly on Harry's shoulder, starting to steer him in a desired direction.
Not in the mood for any games Harry sneered up at the man, eyes blaring with disdain and distaste, "Get. Off. Me." He said forcefully, keeping his voice quiet so only he could hear.
The man it seemed, either didn't hear the danger in Harry's tone or chose to ignore it as he simply laughed, trailing one stubby finger down Harry's smooth cheek, the ragged nail scraping against the skin and drawing a thin trail of blood. "You're a pretty lil' thing aren't yer'." He almost cooed, his voice coming out raspy and grating as though he hadn't used it in months.
Green eyes stared blankly at him and, if the man had had even a bit of sense, this would have been a clear warning sign, and he would have left then and there. It seemed he was, however, lacking any brain cells or the slightest bit of intelligence for he continued to steer Harry into a smaller alley between two shops, their walls and the Alley's natural darkness shrouding the place in shadows.
Harry's wasn't particularly sure what the man was planning to do but he had a rather good idea of what and his lip cured in disgust. How someone could be reduced to this mess he didn't know, and had he still cared enough he might have felt almost sorry for the man. As it was he felt no pity or sympathy, merely disgusted that the man had sunk so low as to pick on someone he thought was weak, someone who wouldn't stand a chance.
At this, Harry's mouth twisted into a malicious smirk, his eyes glinting. Because, unluckily for the man, he was not in a good mood. This caused the grown man to pause, staring at him in confusion for a moment before grinning frightfully at him. "That's right," He said, eyes flashing eagerly, "you'll enjoy this as much as I will."
Before he could so much as move another step however, Harry had shifted so fast the man's slow mind couldn't even follow the movement, and before he could realise what was happening, Harry had whipped the knife from where it was hanging invitingly from the man's belt and slashed one of his knees. Watching as crimson liquid oozed from the wound and the man dropped to the floor in surprise and pain.
Now that they were on a better level, Harry grabbed him by his dirty hair, knife held dangerously close to his carotid artery. For all intents and purposes, the grown man was stronger than Harry's scrawny 6 year old body. However he was now the one holding the knife to his throat. He was now the one who had all the power.
It seemed the man was at least smart enough to realise this. Muscles tensed and stopped moving, self preservation kicking in as sharp metal dug into soft flesh, a few flecks of scarlet tarnishing the silver.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you." Harry offered, hand playing almost absently with the knife as he drew it lightly, tauntingly, across his skin.
"Please-"
Harry scoffed, "I don't want to hear you beg."
"What do you want?" The man asked desperately, his voice sounding strangled from the effort he took to not move his neck even more into the jagged edge of the knife.
What did he want? Harry took a few seconds to think about that.
Fingers tightened, eyes hardened, then he swiped his arm across in one fluid movement. Severing the carotid artery causing blood to splatter onto the opposite wall. Messy but quick.
Fingers loosened, the knife dropping from his hand. Green eyes stared at the lifeless body, unblinking. How easy it was for a life to end, the fire in their eyes to be extinguished. And as Harry looked at the corpse he had caused, the vile man's life he had ended- he didn't feel satisfied or gleeful, nor did he feel sadness or guilt….he just felt nothing.
After a few hours of aimlessly walking around Knockturn and having nothing to show for it, Harry resigned himself that he would find no more books on the topic he was searching for there. Turning on the spot he was gone in an instance, reappearing right back in his room. Taking a moment to recover he pressed his palm to his forehead, fingers gently ghosting the lightening bolt scar. Not for the first time Harry wondered how he had been sent back in time. As far as he knew, the lightening should have killed him, not displaced him in time. And was it just coincidence that he had arrived in Riddle's era? Harry didn't know what to think.
The sun was still shining brightly in it's position in the sky as Harry sat on his windowsill and pondered what to do now. He wondered why Riddle would have wanted a book on soul bonds in the first place and then kicked himself for his stupidity. The teenage Dark Lord was making horcruxes, of course he would be interested in information about souls. Then he reached into his pocket and picked out one of the books he'd gained, enlarging it and staring at the title: 'Magical Bonds'.
Whether of not it would contain something he wanted to know Harry doubted it, and he didn't get his hopes up. Leaning back so he was resting against the wall, legs bent so they were almost touching his chest and feet resting on the ledge, he started to read.
Almost four hours passed and Harry had successfully skimmed through two of the books. Turning the last page of the third and final one, he threw it against the wall in annoyance. There had been absolutely nothing useful in any of them on soul magic or bonds. He really should have gone to Knockturn first, then he might have been able to grab that book before Riddle did and, quite frankly, he should have known there would be nothing detailed about it in the oh so nice and cheerful Diagon Alley!
Then an idea struck him. Riddle might have bought the book but surely he would keep it in his room here at the orphanage? If that was the case, he would only have to wait until Riddle was busy and sneak into his room to search for the tome. Of course that was easier said than done.
It was almost 11pm by the time he had finished and Harry noted distantly that he had missed both lunch and dinner. Though if previous meals had been any indication, they wouldn't have been that enjoyable anyway.
Opening his door slowly Harry peered out into the darkness. Everyone had gone to bed and all was quiet. Exiting and closing the door lightly behind him, Harry made his way downstairs as silently as he could, the floorboards occasionally letting out a quiet 'creak' as his feet made contact with them.
Nothing stirred in the darkness and he found the kitchen without incident.
Unlocking the door with his magic, Harry cautiously entered. He'd never been in the kitchen before now, unless you were a member of staff you were forbidden from entering, and he wasn't entirely sure what to expect.
It was just like any other room, albeit slightly cleaner than the rest of the orphanage which was something at least. Rusty pots and pans hung from racks and shelves and several cabinets were placed about the room along with everything you expected from a kitchen in this era. Not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention, Harry refrained from switching the light on and decided to just make do with the darkness.
Pupils dilated he wandered over to what he assumed was the fridge, watching as a dim light flickered on inside and observing the contents for something he could eat.
Before he had even managed to properly scan everything, a sharp, slightly amused voice called out from behind him. "What are you doing?"
Harry froze for a brief second before slowly turning around and facing Riddle, or more accurately, Riddle's figure, the lack of light making it impossible to see his features.
"Getting food, what are you doing here?" Harry said in a bored tone, as though he didn't know he wasn't supposed to be where he was.
A step closer, "I heard a noise. Naturally I came to investigate." Riddle explained calmly, believably.
Yet somehow, Harry very much doubted that. He noticed that Riddle had slowly but consistently been getting closer until there was now less than a mere metre between them.
Although he was having trouble seeing Riddle's eyes, he could feel their sharp scrutiny and he wondered if the young Dark Lord had better eyesight in the dark than he did.
"How did you get in?" The question was asked softly, curiously.
Harry smirked at his figure which was slowly becoming easier to make out as his eyes adjusted, "Through the door." He said, his tone mocking.
Riddle ignored it, gazing at him with knife-like eyes "The door would have been locked."
"No."
"It's always locked."
"Obviously not."
Suddenly the surrounding air seemed to get darker, suffocating as Riddle narrowed his eyes dangerously.
"You're lying."
"You're annoying." Harry retorted, staring up at Riddle with a minuscule smirk on his face.
Lips opened to reply, but before a sound could escape them footsteps were heard from outside and both instantly froze.
Two pairs of eyes flashed in the direction of the door. A door that had been left open.
Riddle turned back to Harry, mouth opening to speak but Harry beat him to it. "Every man for himself!" He grinned and before Riddle could stop him, he had darted underneath the table seconds before Mrs Cole entered the kitchen.
The matron froze when she switched the light on and saw Riddle standing comfortably in the middle of the room, a bored expression upon his face.
"Tom Riddle!" She shrieked, her attention solely on the teenager and completely missing Harry's obvious hiding spot.
"Mrs Cole." He returned dryly and if she heard the blatant distaste in his voice she chose to ignore it.
"And pray tell me what you are doing out of your room at this time. In the kitchen no less."
"I heard a noise and came to find out what it was." He repeated what he had said earlier, earning a suspicious glance from the matron.
"And I don't suppose you found the source of this noise?" She asked in a tone that clearly said she didn't believe him one bit.
"Of course." Tom replied, deciding that if he was going down then that little brat was coming down with him. "He's under the table."
Mrs Cole turned her eyes to the spot under the table, pausing for a few seconds before bringing her gaze back to Tom. "Young man do not tell lies to me," She spat, 'There is no one there." Anger clouded her voice at his blatant attempt to shift the blame and Tom blinked.
Whipping his head round his eyes fell on the empty space where a boy should have been. But there was nothing. How…?
"Go back to bed. We will discuss your punishment in the morning." She snapped, clearly not in the mood, and with that Mrs Cole spun on her heels and left. Tom, however, didn't move- instead he stayed perfectly still, staring at same vacant spot because he knew, he knew the child had had no where to go.
So where was he?
Sitting on his bed Harry grinned when he thought about what had happened. It had almost been worth not actually ending up with any food for his efforts.
Deciding that he was done for the night, Harry lay back and as soon as his head touched the pillow he was asleep, exhausted from his day that had proved fruitless.
Further down the hall, Riddle sat on his own bed, fingers absently stroking the worn cover of the new book he'd bought. He had thought he had known everything he needed to about horcruxes. But this book was different, this book was special. The tome was written in parseltongue and that attracted Tom's attention more than the title did. After all, it was one of a kind, and to make things better only he could read it making it rightfully his. In the end, all knowledge was power.
He could practically taste the dark magic that engulfed the book and was eager to start. To his annoyance however, the volume in his hand would not open. No matter how much and hard he tried to pry it, it stayed firmly shut, taunting him.
Why wasn't it opening? He stared at the cover for a moment, debating on the ways of which he could get it to open. "Open." He tried hissing in parseltongue. The book stayed stubbornly still. Unfortunately, his mind stayed blank for once as he was unable to use any magic out of Hogwarts, which was a ludicrous rule in itself so he resigned himself to wait until he got back to the school. Just thinking about Hogwarts made him sigh, he wanted to get out of this loathsome, filthy orphanage as soon as possible but the summers always did seem to drag. However this was his last summer at the orphanage… and then he could leave forever. So he could wait, he was patient.
And now he had another problem to think about. That brat… Harry Potter. He knew Potter couldn't have moved when he wasn't looking. He would have heard something and besides, Mrs Cole would have had a perfect view should he have abandoned his rather pathetic hiding spot and yet…
He had been nowhere to be found.
There was also the way Potter had so blatantly ignored his commands earlier as well, combine that with the fact he seemed to be able to get through locked doors… something was off. And Tom resolved to discover what it was because the truth of the matter was…He should have been there.
The next morning Harry woke to the sound of knocking on his door and an emptiness in his stomach. Dragging himself out of bed and getting changed into the itchy uniform he then trudged slowly downstairs.
He noticed Riddle wasn't in his usual spot at his table in the far corner, nor was he anywhere else in the room. Completely unconcerned with the other boy's absence, Harry ate his meal alone or at least, he started to before a shadow loomed over him.
It was a boy, around his age who looked around nervously as though expecting Riddle to jump out at any moment. He coughed, eyes flickering with slight alarm. "Mr. Jerome would like to see you in his office." With that said, the brown haired boy immediately scuffled off, obviously eager to get away from him.
Harry sighed, Mr. Jerome was a helper at the orphanage or at least, that was what he'd gathered. The middle-age man had been at the orphanage for about a year now. What he would want with Harry, he had no idea. As far as he had seen, the man was a religious freak, the type Harry hated.
Discarding his untouched breakfast, Harry wandered out the kitchen and down a corridor to a wooden door with a metal plaque on it with the words: 'Mr. Jerome' engraved in silver.
Knocking on the door in a timid manor, he didn't have to wait long before a voice called out from the inside telling him to enter. Arranging his features into a curious yet wary expression, Harry opened the door to find Mr Jerome standing with his arms in front of him by the crackling fire as it spit vicious sparks into the air, clutching what looked to be the Bible in his calloused hands.
"You asked to see me... sir?"
The man turned round, fixing his dim brown eyes on the small boy, "Yes. I wanted to talk to you about something... Someone actually."
Okay, Harry was definitely more wary now and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Now I don't want you to be frightened of telling the truth." Jerome consoled seriously and Harry grew slightly confused. What was he on about?
"I assure you, you are safe now."
Harry merely blinked, somewhat dumbfounded.
The strange man seemed to take a deep breath, "What can you tell me about Tom Riddle?"
Silence. That was all that greeted the religious man's strange question. Harry was... confused as loath as he was to admit it. Why on earth was he asking him about Tom Riddle let alone about Riddle himself. Seeing the man still staring expectantly at him Harry cleared his throat. "You'll have to be more specific." He said simply, an air of disinterest around him.
"Has he done anything suspicious?" He pressed, staring deeply at Harry.
"Why would I know?"
Jerome frowned at him, looking slightly disappointed and yet he also looked as though he had expected such a response. "Now now my dear boy. There's no need to fear. I will not let him harm you." Though his words were obviously meant to be consoling, Harry only felt more confusion and the urge to laugh.
Somehow, if Riddle really wanted to hurt him, Harry doubted some crazy old religious man would be able to stop him.
"He won't harm me." I won't let him. He thought, keeping his face clueless and innocent.
The man sighed, "Harry, though I hate to be the one to tell you as you seem rather close with Mr. Riddle," Harry almost snorted, apart from the couple of brief interactions that Jerome couldn't possibly know about, the only time he had been in Riddle's presence was at meal times. "I must warn you that he is not what he seems. There's something much darker, much more evil lurking beneath the surface."
Yes, Harry really wanted to burst into laughter but he had a feeling it wouldn't go down well with the other man and kept his features straight.
"Now, can you do something for me Harry?"
Harry only stared.
"I want you to keep an eye on him, tell me anything of use. I do not want you getting fooled by the devil's trickery after all." He warned and as Harry left, he wondered if the man meant it in a figurative way or if he really believed Riddle was somehow Satan himself.
He wouldn't be surprised if he did.
Just before Harry was about to enter his room he found himself pausing, hand inches away from the door handle. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he turned his head, eyes settling on the closed door at the end of the hall that practically screamed 'Keep out or else...'
He really shouldn't, after all, he had no clue how long Riddle would be gone for or what time he would be getting back but he was so tempted. What were the chances the book was still in his room? Somehow, Harry doubted the book would be well hidden if it was hidden at all as he found it likely that Riddle wouldn't even think of the option that someone might dare enter his room. Arrogance always was his weakness.
Biting his lip, Harry considered, who knows? Perhaps he would even be able to read it and then put it back before the future Dark Lord arrived back at the orphanage and leave him none the wiser. Coming to a decision, Harry started stalking towards Riddles door. The atmosphere seemingly getting colder and colder with every step he took if that were possible.
Tying the door handle he found to no surprise, that it was locked. Not that that would stop him. Focusing his magic he pushed it towards his hand, feeling as it travelled from his core and down his arm, the magic surging through leaving a trail of sparks before finally reaching his palm and shooting out at the lock. There was a barely audible click and the door was unlocked, as easily as that.
Pushing the door gradually open Harry then took the step that brought him into Tom Riddle's room. Time to start searching.
A/N: Another chapter finished, hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter should be up… at some point. I really don't know when. Thanks for reading!
