Author's Announcement: New Story
So! This story continues (and merges with Congratulations! Your Memory is Happy to Burn You!) in Two Dearly Departed Dark Lords. Readers still interested in further complications inflicted upon the long-suffering Tom Riddle Jr. is advised to direct themselves that way. Since FFNet does not allow for the uploading of Author's Notes without any story content, I thought I'd just give you a sneak peek, an inkling of things to come, so to speak.
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= Two Dearly Departed Dark Lords =
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Harry
"So, how have you been, Tom?" Harry casually strolled up to Tom's bench.
He shrugged, not particularly certain of the answer. Was he fine? He didn't know what other people consider fine. He was bored out of his wits, yes, and he was quite dissatisfied with some of his Death Eaters as he reviewed some of the events in his life—he was pretty sure that he wouldn't bother with Wormtail at all if he ever saw him again. But he wasn't sure that Harry wanted to know that. All things considered, it wasn't as if he had to put up with any sort of unmitigated torture here.
"Alright, I guess."
"Good!" Harry said, smiling and entirely too chipper for Tom's tastes. He took something from the recesses of his coat and pressed it into Tom's hands. "Here's your ticket for the next try. Have a nice trip!"
A good cuppa would've been better, Potter, he thought, but didn't voice it.
He didn't check the ticket immediately, preferring to eye the Master of Death with a long-suffering expression.
"Please don't tell me it's for Blackpool."
"It's not Blackpool." Harry sighed.
Tom looked down. The paper was thicker and smoother than he'd expected. "So, what trip? Where am I supposed to find this… Second Time Around Express slash Flight slash Interdimensional Portal period?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Very droll, Tom. You don't have to go anywhere, of course. Just wait here. Your ride will find your ticket when it's time to pick you up. It's obvious."
"Oh, of course it makes sense for a train to locate its passengers one-by-one across an entire station instead of expecting the passengers to gather in one platform. How unperceptive of me." Tom said dryly.
"Hey, the passengers don't always come from the same place or time, or end up in the similar worlds. It's easier than chancing people getting lost on their way. 'Sides, it's not as if you'd be picked up anytime soon, yet. No need for the sarcasm." Harry said, completely unperturbed. "No need to thank me either."
"Thank you very much for your help," Tom said, along with a perfect bow. It surprised him that he was not entirely disingenuous in his appreciation. Harry smiled, as if he was quite aware of what Tom was feeling, and it was enough for him.
"My pleasure," Harry said, replying in kind.
It was Tom's turn to be surprised by the warmth in it. As Harry continued speaking, Tom could see the tips of his wand glowing bright blue, "Safe journeys. Also, do get along with your travelling partner. His life's as complicated as yours and Magic herself decided that you would both do better if you could watch each other's back. It made perfect balance as well—you're given one life for you to fix, and you pay it by another that you are bound to watch over."
Tom shook his head, reeling from the sudden news dump (oh, he remembered all of it, he was that good, but he'd still need enough time to process it). Of all the glimpses he had into Harry Potter's life, he knew he should've expected this. The boy-who-lived was a bit of a slob when it came to his personal quarters—the only reason he kept the more common spaces neat was because he was too nice to inconvenience other people otherwise. Thus it wasn't really a surprise to find Harry rushing everything at once to him, right before an apparent departure instead of planning it ahead of time. He had so many questions he didn't even know where to start.
"Magic herself? Not itself?"
Harry nodded. "Yes, herself, whatever name she holds in whichever world. Don't ever catch you calling her it, though, not when you know better. She gets… tetchy."
"What was it about a travelling partner?"
"Ah, yes. That," Harry muttered. "Well, you know. People you travel with."
Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. "I would have thought that years, no, decades of being in the company of good Miss Granger would've expanded your vocabulary a little more and improved your explaining skills, Potter. Please try again."
Let it never be said that Tom Riddle didn't keep tabs on the people that could possibly pose a threat to him. He was quite aware of who Hermione Granger was, thank you, especially since she seemed to be McGonagall's protégé. Harry looked sheepish, but continued to grin regardless. Tom watched him carefully now. Was it just him, or did it look like the Master of Death was hiding something?
"It's just that you have an unusual arrangement. It doesn't happen often. I'm at loss to explain it."
"You could start at the beginning," Tom said, "Proceed to the middle, and stop when you've reached the end."
"You've read Alice in Wonderland! I almost can't believe that." Harry exclaimed with glee.
"Potter, focus." Tom said, with the sort of polite insistence to his statement that most diplomats and statesmen understand to generally meant as backed by an army. He would like to think that he's a patient man, but he had never been particularly tolerant of idiocy. Harry's liberal use of silliness would probably drive him up a wall over longer acquiantance. The man's almost like paint fumes that way, Tom thought at random do not expose yourself for prolonged periods in closed spaces, or no one is to be blame for your headaches but yourself.
"Well, you probably won't be leaving so soon because you'd need to get to know your partner—"
"What I was wondering about," he cut in with the same dulcet tones he had been using, "was what it would mean to have a travelling partner."
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(Read the rest in Two Dearly Departed Dark Lords)
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