~To Kill You With A Kiss~
Chapter 21
...
The blue flames were dying in the fireplace now, and more and more of the room began to vanish into the deepening shadows. Even Voldemort's monstrous features became indistinct in the last light from the flickering candles on the wall, as if he were nothing but an image from a dream, fading into the dreamless black of a deeper sleep.
"It's getting late, Harry."
Had Voldemort's voice always been this soft? Harry felt a cold but not unpleasant thrill at the nape of his neck when Voldemort spoke. He had never really listened to Voldemort's voice before, just to his words. Who can describe the lilt of the voice that curses you? Who can look into Voldemort's scarlet eyes and recall the tone of his voice? But now that Voldemort's terrifying form was fading into the evening shadows, his voice seemed to echo in Harry's mind. It was Tom's voice, and yet not Tom's at all. It was deep and melodious, with a strange haunting quality to it that reminded Harry of darkness and curses and veela song all at once.
Voldemort continued: "Professor Slughorn offered me his spare bedroom for the night, and I have accepted his offer. Trust Horace to secure more spacious accommodations for himself than any other Hogwarts teacher!" There was a hint of laughter in his voice now. "You should go back to Gryffindor Tower and get some sleep, Harry. You need to be alert when we plan the murder of Voldemort over the next few days. I will see you in the morning."
"Go back to Gryffindor Tower?" It took Harry a moment to realize that the Dark Lord had no inkling that Harry was now in a different house. "Oh, I'm not in Gryffindor."
"Not in Gryffindor?" Harry could hear the slight rustling of Voldemort's robes as the Dark Lord stirred by his side. "But I seem to recall that you were. You must be; I remember you pulling that sword out of Godric's crumpled old hat, many years from now."
Harry smiled into the gathering darkness. "I was sorted into Gryffindor in the future, yes. I mean, I will be. But in this time, the Sorting Hat put me in Slytherin."
"Harry Potter in Slytherin?" Voldemort's voice was a breath in the darkness. "What a strange thought! And yet it does make sense; you are my horcrux, after all. Imagine, the Dark Lord's own living horcrux sorted into Gryffindor! I wonder what made the Sorting Hat get it right in this time, but not in the future."
"The Sorting Hat did get it right in both times," whispered Harry. "It knows that I belong in both houses. I may be your horcrux, but I'm also me. The Hat simply put me in the house where I asked it to put me. Both times."
"You asked it-?" Tom's voice - his Tom's voice - floated toward him through the shadowy room.
"Yes, Tom. It is... it is our choices that make us what we are."
"Our choices?" A slight pause. Then Tom whispered: "I hope you are right about that, Harry. Lumos!"
The candles in the wall sconces flickered more brightly at Tom's spell, and Harry saw the shapes of his two companions growing slowly out of the shadows.
"Wandless magic? Very impressive, Professor Riddle." Harry could sense Tom squirming at the ironic undertone in Voldemort's approval. Harry studied Voldemort's pale face as it emerged from the darkness. Somehow, The Dark Lord seemed entirely different now that his eyes were of a more normal hue. His eyes were very much like Tom's, only darker and more inscrutable.
"Our choices make us what we are?" Voldemort shrugged. "That sounds like one of those trite little things Dumbledore would say, but I suppose there could be something to it after all. I am rather pleased to learn that there is a part of you that has chosen Slytherin, Harry. You look tired, my dear; you should go and get some sleep. In the Slytherin dormitory." A slight smile brushed over his pale features. "How strange, to imagine Harry Potter sleeping on silver sheets in the Slytherin dungeon! I wonder what you will dream there... I remember that dormitory so well, even after all these years. I wonder which bed is yours? Perhaps you are in my old bed? It's the one in the south corner."
"Er..." Harry wished the darkness had still been there to conceal his burning cheeks. "I'm not sleeping in the Slytherin dormitory any more."
"He is sleeping in my quarters." Tom broke in firmly. "It's an arrangement that I made for his protection."
"For his protection, Tom?" Voldemort stared at him. "Protection from what?"
"From you."
Voldemort laughed. "Oh, I see. You are protecting him from Voldemort? How delightfully ironic. Well, Professor Riddle, as Harry's - I mean Elias' - guardian, I am not at all sure I approve of that unusual arrangement. What if you were to take advantage of the boy?"
Tom glared at him. "My relationship with Harry is none of your business. We are lovers; you already know that. We love each other, and if you dare to interfere, you will soon find out what other wandless magic I can perform. I have heard that wandless killing curses are almost impossible to perform, but I am rather good at magic. I dare say I could do it if I really put my mind to it."
"Besides, Tom will not be taking advantage of me tonight." Harry reached out for Tom's hand and met Voldemort's glance defiantly. "I will be the one taking advantage of him."
"You will... what?" Voldemort's penetrating grey gaze made Harry flush. "How unexpected and how very... intriguing..."
Harry squirmed under his lingering glance.
"Ah, well." The Dark Lord got up. "I will see you both in the morning, then. I have informed Professor Dippet that I wish to observe a few of Elias' classes tomorrow, just so I can reassure myself that my ward is receiving the quality magical education I expect from an institution like this. Of course, if I am not happy with what I see, I may consider having Elias transferred to Durmstrang. I look forward to seeing you teach, Tom. That should be an interesting experience for both of us, I would think... Professor Riddle! Yes, I think I shall enjoy that very much. Could I have my wand back, my dear?" Voldemort accepted his wand from Harry. "I am to share Horace's quarters tonight, after all, so I might need my wand for my own protection. I doubt he will make a pass at me now, given my current appearance, but I will hex him within an inch of his life if he insists on offering me that revolting crystallized pineapple."
Tom smiled slightly. "Hm. Yes, it is rather appalling, isn't it?"
"I'm glad we have something in common, Tom. Apart from being the same person, I mean." Voldemort hesitated for a moment. His dark grey eyes scrutinized Harry's face. Then he did the last thing Harry had expected: He leaned forward and brushed Harry's lips gently with his own. His mouth felt curiously cold, much colder to the touch than Tom's. His lips were as icy as snow, and yet Harry felt as if he had been touched by a searing flame. The kiss lasted for a mere moment, but it left Harry's senses reeling.
"Harry..." Voldemort's voice was as soft as the kiss. "I was just wondering what it would feel like. It was even sweeter than I would have thought."
*He's mine!* Tom hissed, leaping to his feet and flinging himself at Voldemort.
Voldemort must have used a wordless, wandless spell of some sort, for Tom appeared to hit an invisible obstacle in mid-air. He was thrown backwards and landed in a heap on the floor.
Voldemort watched with a slight smile as Tom scrambled to his feet, cursing furiously. *Don't forget, Tom: If he is yours, that makes him mine also.* And the Dark Lord turned and swept out the door.
Harry stood frozen, spellbound by the impossible touch. The next instant, Tom's arms wrapped tightly around Harry, and warm lips found Harry's mouth. Tom kissed him again and again, furiously, as if he wanted to wipe every trace and every memory of Voldemort's kiss away.
Finally, Harry pulled away and whispered: "You are jealous of him, aren't you?"
"Jealous?" Tom's grey eyes glittered. "I was jealous when Abraxas Malfoy touched you. It's hardly an adequate term for what I felt when he kissed you... You know, Harry, it occurs to me that dark wizards put very little effort into their deadly curses; everyone fires off the customary Avada Kedavra without a second thought. The Avada curse accomplishes the desired end result, of course, but it seems much too instant and painless to be used for all murders. It should be possible to create a new killing curse that is involves a little more suffering on the victim's part, to ensure that the dying person has adequate time to repent any ill-conceived kisses..."
"There is no reason to be jealous, Tom. It's you I love. Always you. This you." Harry kissed Tom softly. He reached out for Tom's mind with his own. Suddenly, he pulled back. "Wait, what...? What is this, Tom? I can sense your jealousy, but what is that other emotion I feel lingering in your mind? I thought at first it was anger, but it's not. Well, not only anger." He stared at Tom. "What? Seeing him kiss me - it turned you on?"
Tom flushed scarlet. "Oh, don't be ridiculous. Of course it didn't! That's a preposterous thought, Harry."
"Tom? I can read your mind, remember?"
Tom groaned. "I know. I'm beginning to think that's not an altogether good thing. Well, I suppose seeing the kiss did turn me on, just a tiny bit. To see what you look like, from the outside, as it were, when you kiss someone... And I suppose that he is me, in a way... And then to sense his desperate desire to hold you, to... Well, it's not like he didn't feel the same way when he saw us kiss."
"Enough!" Harry sighed. "I don't want to think about Voldemort right now. I want to think about you. Let's go back to your rooms, and I will show you exactly what I was thinking."
...
"I am delighted," chirped Professor Slughorn, "to inform you that we will have a distinguished visitor observing our potions class this morning. This is Mr. Gaunt, Elias Black's guardian."
Mr. Gaunt? Harry smiled to himself as he pulled out his potions book. How is is possible that Slughorn can look into his grey eyes and not recognize him as Tom?
"Mr. Gaunt," continued Slughorn, with an air of excitement, "is a most accomplished wizard, as I discovered last night, when I accidentally startled him when he thought himself alone. I am hardly a novice at magic myself, but he hexed me rather thoroughly. Fortunately, he was able to reverse the effects of the spell, or I wouldn't be here right now."
Harry could see that many of the students looked suitably impressed.
"A most regrettable misunderstanding," said Voldemort softly. "Mere instinct, I assure you, developed through years of traveling in dangerous parts of the world."
Slughorn chuckled. "Very understandable, Mr. Gaunt! When a powerful wizard is used to fighting danger every day, even an innocuous potions master arriving suddenly with a bowl of crystallized pineapple may provoke a deep-rooted self-defensive instinct... Now, now, Elias, there is really nothing very humorous about that."
"No, sir. Nothing humorous at all." Harry quickly arranged his face in what he hoped was a very grave expression.
"Now, if you will kindly take a seat here in the back, Mr. Gaunt - " Slughorn waved his wand, and one of the wooden classroom chairs in the back was instantly transformed into a plush armchair upholstered in crimson velvet - "we will proceed with our lesson. Today's potion is the very potent and devilishly tricky amortentia. Yes, the classic love potion. Make me proud, ladies and gentlemen; show Mr. Gaunt how much you have learned here at Hogwarts. Oh..." He glanced sternly at some of the girls who were giggling rather excitedly. "I should add, perhaps, that I have put some extra screening wards up by the door. Nobody will be able to leave the classroom with any samples of today's potions!" His eyes twinkled as he looked out over the disappointed faces of his students. "Your old potions master was not born yesterday, you know! Now, please turn to page thirty-three of your book..."
A rustling of pages followed. Harry noticed that most of the students studied the instructions in the potions books with a great deal more enthusiasm than usual. There was a hectic flush on Eileen Prince's usually pale cheeks, and both Orion and Abraxas were grinning.
Harry bent over his own potions book. Pound elder flowers and bittersweet together. Add jasmine, myrrh and lady's mantle, in that order, and throw in a handful of pure white rose petals while thinking passionate thoughts of a beloved...
Cauldrons filled with water were bubbling merrily over low fires. Slughorn had already put out the potions ingredients for each student; piles of green leaves and several kinds of white flowers covered each desk. But what was what? The rose petals were easy enough, but which were the elder flowers? Harry peeked over at Cygnus and Araminta, but they looked baffled as well.
Start with the small five-petalled flowers, whispered a voice in Harry's head. Those are the elder flowers. The arrow-shaped leaves are the bittersweet. Harry glanced over at Voldemort, but Voldemort appeared completely engrossed in watching Tiberius McLaggen pounding something Harry was pretty certain were rose petals in his mortar.
Harry smiled and dropped the five-petalled flowers and the arrow-shaped leaves into his mortar. Make sure you pound them well; you should not be able to tell the two plants apart when you are done, continued the voice in his head. Harry obediently pounded the flowers and leaves to a soggy greenish pulp. Pour the pulp in your cauldron. Now add the jasmine flowers; they are the oval petals with a scent that resembles perfume. Just drop them in, lightly. The white flowers attached to the spiky twig with the glossy green leaves are myrrh. The instructions don't say so, but I would pound the stem a little before adding it if I were you; it helps release the fragrant resin. The larger grey-green fan-shaped leaves are the lady's mantle. You need to tear those into little pieces, or they will just float around on top when you add them to the potion.
Harry peered into his cauldron. The bubbling liquid was turning silver now, and a sweet fragrance rose from the bubbling depths.
And then the rose petals. Harry flung the remaining heap of snow-white flowers in the potion. Passionate thoughts of a beloved? That part was easy. He closed his eyes for a moment and let memories from the previous night flood his mind. Tom, warm and flushed in his arms, Tom moaning under him in response to his frantic strokes... Too late, Harry recalled that his thoughts were not entirely private. He flushed deeply as he suddenly felt Voldemort's glance linger on him.
Harry bent over his potion. Yes, the shimmering liquid was beginning to assume a lovely mother-of-pearl sheen. The scent rising from the shimmering depths was enticing; it smelled like Tom's skin and wood and broomsticks and rain and damp wool all at once.
Yarrow. The word suddenly appeared in his mind. You should add yarrow. Harry flipped through the pages of the instructions. No mention of yarrow anywhere. Elder flowers and bittersweet are for enticement, jasmine and myrrh and lady's mantle are for passion, and roses for love, but yarrow will make it everlasting... insisted the voice in his head. No, there was nothing about that in the book. Harry glanced up and met Voldemort's eyes.
Yarrow?
Yarrow. Trust me.
Harry sighed and walked over to the potions cupboard. They are the long, straight stalks on the second shelf. Harry reached in and grasped a handful of dried stalks. The potion bubbled slightly as he tossed them in.
"Hey! What did you just do?" Abraxas leaned over Harry's cauldron. "What are those funny stems you just put in there?"
"Back to your own spot, please, Mr. Malfoy." Slughorn had appeared behind them. He regarded Abraxas' potion with a sigh. "Too much myrrh. Your potion would make the affected person much too desperate..." Slughorn leaned over Harry's cauldron. "Oh, sweet Merlin!" He beamed at Harry. "Very well done, Elias; very well done indeed! I do not ever think I have seen such a flawless love potion; its shimmer has an almost unearthly quality to it. Excellent work, my boy!" Slughorn reached out and ruffled Harry's hair affectionately.
The next moment, the potions master was doubled over in pain. "Ahhh!"
"Are you all right, professor? Shall I call the matron?" Voldemort gave him a look of great concern.
"No, I'll be... all right..." Slughorn moaned, clutching his ample belly. "Just a sudden pain. I suppose it's indigestion. Ahhh."
"Perhaps it's the crystallized pineapple," said Voldemort softly.
"I suppose that's possible." Slughorn straightened up and wiped the perspiration from his forehead with a delicate lilac handkerchief. He completed his inspection of the remaining potions. When he was done, he turned to Voldemort with a wan smile. "As you can see, sir, we have several talented potions makers among our students, but I think you can see for yourself that your ward is in a class by himself. It is a privilege to have him among us."
Slughorn clapped his hands, and the students glanced up from their potions. "That is all for today, ladies and gentlemen. Before you leave, I have an announcement to make: Mr. Gaunt wishes to see as much as possible of student life here at Hogwarts. Last night, when I told him about Professor Beery's Christmas pantomime, Mr. Gaunt expressed his deep regret that he would not be able to attend the final performance itself. But I had a word with Professor Beery this morning, and he assures me that the rehearsals have been going so well lately that it would be perfectly possible to put on an early performance of the play for Mr. Gaunt this evening. Actors, understudies, and interested spectators are asked to find their way to the Great Hall this evening at eight o'clock. Let's give Mr. Gaunt an experience he will never forget!"
"What a wonderful surprise!" Voldemort bowed his head gracefully. "A Christmas pantomime at Hogwarts! A once in a lifetime experience, you might say. I look forward to it, Professor Slughorn."
"Oh, please call me Horace. I insist."
"Thank you. Horace." Voldemort was all smiles.
As the class dismissed, Eileen Prince leaned closer to Harry. "What a charming man he is, your guardian!"
"Charming?" Harry blinked in surprise.
Eileen flushed a little. "Why, yes. At least, I think so. And I'm not the only one, either; look at Araminta and Druella staring at him. His face is dreadfully disfigured, of course, but that just makes him all the more interesting, don't you think? And he has such beautiful manners." She sighed softly. "What a lonely life he must have lead! Has he ever been married? Or had a girlfriend?"
Harry pondered this for a moment. Well, he was engaged to Walburga once... No, wait, that was Tom, not Voldemort. And he kissed me last night, in front of his past self... He flushed. "Er... No. I don't think so."
"Poor man," whispered Eileen. "One cannot help but pity him."
Pity him? Harry looked doubtfully at Voldemort.
"Ah, Elias." Voldemort approached him with a smile, and Eileen vanished with the other students. "You are quite a gifted potions maker, I see."
Harry rolled his eyes. "One of us is, I suppose. Thanks for the help."
"Any time, my dear. I can't wait to see you in the play tonight."
Harry shuddered. "Oh, I'm not in the play any more. I pulled out, since I had too much.. er... homework to do."
"But of course you are in the play." Voldemort's voice was soft. "Why would I wish to sit through that horrible travesty unless you were in it? I had a word with Beery, and he agreed that you should resume your former role tonight. You will be Sir Luckless, of course."
"What?" Harry glared at him. "No. No, I won't do it. I can't do it. I don't even know all the lines."
"Oh, don't worry about that." Voldemort gazed at him, and if Harry didn't know better, he would have characterized the Dark Lord's brief smile as an evil grin. "I will have the play in hand - Professor Beery kindly provided me with a copy of the script - and I think you will find that the lines will appear in you mind as needed."
Harry shook his head. "No. I will not do this. You can't make me."
"Oh, come on, Harry. It will be so entertaining! I have heard so much about the play over the years. You can't miss this." Voldemort smiled slightly. "Just promise me one thing, Harry."
Harry sighed. "What?"
"Promise me you won't eat or drink anything that has been left unattended, even for a second, during the next few days."
Harry blinked. "What? Why?"
"Amortentia is a rather powerful potion, Harry, and there is a great deal of it about the castle right now."
Harry stared at him. "There is amortentia about? But didn't you hear what Slughorn said? He put up wards by the door, to ensure that students couldn't bring any samples out."
Voldemort shrugged. "He did put wards up, yes. Of course, that wouldn't stop students from trying to smuggle samples out. Unfortunately, I accidentally dispelled the wards during class."
"You what? How? Why?"
Voldemort's grey eyes glittered. "How? Well, I am quite good at wordless magic. As for why... Well, if I have to sit through that pantomime, I might as well make sure it will be amusing to watch. The play may turn out quite entertaining after all. I counted seven concealed bottles of amortentia exiting the room, hidden underneath students' robes."
"Seven?"
Voldemort nodded gravely. "Seven. I dare say the next few days will prove to be quite interesting, Harry."