"Are you alright, Jonathan?" Riddle asked.
Harry looked up to see Tom surveying him carefully. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine… I was just thinking…"
In truth Harry had been daydreaming about the Deathly Hallows, as well as contemplating if not actually having the Elder Wand meant that he could blame nothing for his abilities in the Dark Arts. He realised, then, that he must have been staring at the ring, which rested upon Tom's right hand, as usual… He tried to organise his expression into one that was more impassive. Riddle examined him for a moment longer, before speaking.
"You seem rather distracted." Riddle commented.
"Yeah… Er, I suppose I'm just tired." Harry almost lied.
Riddle nodded, looking back to the book in his lap for a second. "Yes. This holiday always seems to waste a lot of energy…"
Harry watched Tom for a moment, and decided to carry on this conversation, considering he didn't want to read, and was intent upon pulling himself away from daydreaming. "You don't like Christmas either, then?"
Riddle gave a weak smile, which seemed to fall away quickly. "No. I generally try to ignore the whole affair."
It was Christmas Eve for Harry and Tom, and the Slytherin Common Room was even colder than it usual was due to the slight blizzard going on outside the castle walls. It was nearing nine O'clock, and Hogwarts was silent if not for the winds and snow that howled against the windows in the upper floors. "I don't blame you." Harry replied. "So do you spend all your Christmases alone here?"
"Whenever I can. It's far easier to endure when not the in the presence of those who actually take something from the lies of joy."
"But it's impossible to avoid someone like Slughorn, I'm guessing."
"That guess would be correct." Tom stated.
"Don't the others ever try to stay over the holiday?" Harry asked, referring to the Death Eaters.
"Oh, they try. But I have long learnt that their offers are not out of generosity or actual wishes for more of my company, which is only more reason past my own desire to not be with any of them at this time of year."
"Er, then I suppose it's better if I –"
"No, I don't mind your company." Riddle replied, as if he had read Harry's shielded mind, or perhaps his expression. "For you probably hate this celebration almost as much as I, and regard it with much of the same distaste."
Harry nodded slightly in exchange for an actual comment. He was sure that Riddle had different reasons than him for hating the season, for it wasn't actually the idea of Christmas that Harry hated, more the memories it forced him to involuntarily recollect.
There was a pause, as Riddle appeared to contemplate a few thoughts. "How is it that your parents really died, Jonathan?" He asked. His tone was even more delicate than usual, and his expression displayed nothing but musing curiosity.
"I didn't lie about them being murdered, if that's what you mean." Harry said, not at all intent upon looking away from boy who was to take the lives of his parents as he said this. His expression was blank.
"No, I didn't suppose that that was a lie." Riddle replied without hesitation. "I was merely wondering whether it was directly related to the fact that you were brought up to hate Grindelwald…"
Harry had already thought about this question. Via research he had worked out that since Grindelwald was over 25 by the time Harry was supposed to be born, in 1927 (Tom being born in December, 1926) it wouldn't be abnormal for Grindelwald to have killed people by this time. There had been theories of undocumented deaths perhaps caused by Grindelwald even this soon, which were not investigated very well due to the fact that by the time of people linking Gellert to the murders, more important events had occurred, worse deaths, and fear of his raising power.
"Yeah… it was directly linked." Harry said. He wasn't sure why, but it was more satisfying to him to replace Gellert Grindelwald for Voldemort whenever Tom asked him questions relating to his past, which in truth hadn't been very often so far. What was more, Harry didn't want to give any more made up and distant people credit for his replacement of the Dark Lord… It was almost as if he could fit his own life perfectly into one that was possible to lie about in this time. On a lesser scale, what Grindelwald was doing was remarkably close to what Voldemort had done in Harry's memory.
As Harry looked up and Tom, he tried to read the older boy's expression, to see whether there were any interesting signs upon it. Yet it was always rare to see true emotion in Tom. Harry almost wanted to see Riddle bask in the glory of having still murdered someone earlier than Grindelwald had, even if that was an irrational thing to look for… But as Harry dwelt upon it, he supposed that Grindelwald and Riddle had both been the same age when they first murdered. Sixteen… Tom for his father, Gellert for Dumbledore's sister – perhaps.
"How old were you?" Tom asked quietly.
"A year old." Harry replied truthfully.
"That's remarkably young." Riddle commented. "Who was it that took you after your parents died?"
Harry wasn't foolish enough to suppose that there were witches and wizards fighting against Grindelwald so soon, but he made up a story that could explain his half–fictional past even when taking this into consideration. "I was put into a wizarding orphanage once my parents were both murdered. My father died first, in Germany, and my mother managed to bring me to England before she was tracked down too. She arranged my life even at the expense of dying… Friends of my parents managed to find me, but couldn't actually adopt me until I was eleven, in fear of being tracked by Grindelwald even after all those years. After that, I lived in a small wizarding community."
"Who were against Grindelwald, I am sure?" Riddle suggested.
"Yes." Harry replied.
"How many of them are there?" Riddle asked. "Did they have more children in their organisation, or were they too small to get away with it?
"We were quite powerful, and had a decent amount of people." Harry said, avoiding Riddle's eyes as he told the truth. "But I don't think there are very many of us anymore… As for children joining, it was unusual for anyone to spend their whole life in training, because it was only a few years ago that the group was really formed. Most of the younger members joined at fifteen and onwards, because of family members in the group or else from sheer personal choice. It varied a lot. I personally wasn't aloud to learn any magic to help with fighting until I was fifteen."
"So your foster parents weren't planning on making you fight for your whole life?"
"No." Harry replied. "They told me the truth about my parents' death once they were far enough away from the orphanage's ears to talk about how they actually knew me, but they didn't expect Grindelwald to be anything more than a murderer, I don't think. When they heard about people forming a resistance group when things got worse, they hesitated for a long time. But all three of us wanted to do something about it all. I was old enough to convince them that we needed to do this…"
Harry watched Riddle's expression, and saw that he appeared interested in this tale. Harry was glad of this, because it was evident that there was not a seed of doubt placed inside Riddle's head about this story while he was interested. Perhaps it was because Tom had dreamt about being a Dark Wizard, thus seeing wars as a great reality, or maybe it was because Harry had actually witnessed a war, thus wasn't lying as much as he could be, which helped Tom sense his sincerity.
"But your foster parents and everyone in their organisation were Dark Wizards?"
"Partially… but closer to Grey Wizards. Or at least when we began. We were all willing to do what we had to do to bring down Grindelwald, because most of us had lost friends and family. We had no choice but to fight fire with fire with time… I'd say we were a pretty dark shade of grey, towards the end."
"But you're willing to turn into a darker wizard one day?" Riddle suggested.
"I don't suppose I have a choice, because I'm not going to back down so soon…" With saying these words, he felt a pang of hatred towards the boy sitting next to him, and avoided looking at Riddle. "It's the only way I can ever really understand what it is that he does, to know who he is…"
Now that Harry thought about it, it was probably abnormal of him to even be having this conversation with Riddle. They weren't friends, and Harry didn't have to spill these secrets… Yet he supposed that Tom was supposed to be his leader, as he was for all of the other Death Eaters to be. Harry knew that it must have been because of all the lies that he told Tom the story of his past this easily; to clarify the facts after Riddle discovered the huge secret. Harry hoped that this wasn't a form of a mistake… but it wasn't as though he was telling pieces of information that weren't generally required from the questions asked. Also, Riddle was probably used to learning whole stories from people without the teller of stories having a second thought.
"You believe you will be his downfall, or a great help towards it?" Riddle asked. "There are many enemies of Grindelwald already, I am sure…"
"I don't think I will be the exact person to murder him… but I'll try my hardest to manage it, or at least set it up." Harry replied.
"What will you do after that?" Tom asked, as if this all wasn't a seemingly impossible task.
"I don't care what happens to me after that…"
"You won't continue killing Dark Wizards?"
"He's my top priority, and I can't see anyone exceeding him even after he's gone. I doubt I'll be in any good condition to take down more Dark Wizards after that time. He's the only person I want to kill, or make suffer in prison for the rest of his life. He's the only person I have something against, because he managed to kill everyone I've ever known… I don't see it happening again, so he's my only target."
"So you don't actually hate other Dark Wizards?"
"I have no reasons left to despise anyone I don't hate already." Harry replied.
Riddle paused for only a moment, contemplating his next question. "Do you believe you will become a Dark Wizard one day?" He asked quietly.
"Probably." Harry replied. "Though I don't imagine living for very long after the death of Grindelwald. I don't really have anything to go on for, unless everything works out better than it looks like it could now."
Tom's expression was still impassive, so Harry generally gave up trying to work out what all these questions were really for. He supposed that it was likely to merely satisfy Riddle's curiosity, to give him different things to think about concerning Harry. "Are they all gone? The people you knew before, I mean." Tom asked.
"I can never really know for sure… Well, I know that some of them are gone, because I saw them leave the world of the living, but I'm not sure if every single one of us is dead. I can image a few surviving… I can't exactly go looking for them now, though."
Riddle seemed to have reached much of the same conclusions, for he nodded in understanding. "How was it that you survived, exactly?"
Harry felt a stab of sorrow as he thought about the real explanation to how he survived, but he thought of a lie in replacement for reflecting on the past. "Just from luck, I suppose. Timing. Though I'm not really sure if it's considered luck by this point… just chance."
"What happened in the actual battle?" Riddle asked. "Was Grindelwald there? Furthermore, how did they get rid of the bodies, and not let any Ministry across Europe know about it?" He seemed awfully interested now, as if he would be able to gain a lot of useful information from it all. Harry felt vaguely annoyed by these questions.
"I can't tell you that." Harry replied in a voice close to a monotone. "I'm not stupid enough to trust people with exact details."
Riddle seemed to notice his mistake now. "Oh, no, I didn't mean to offend." He said quickly. "It's just that this is a rather interesting tale."
"It wasn't exactly interesting at the time…" Harry replied, not caring whether he was being rude to Riddle.
Tom paused for a long moment, choosing what he was to say next carefully. His tone was softer, less eager in the attempt of learning more. "Sorry, I shouldn't have been so direct… Yet you've told me this much…"
"What I've told you isn't anywhere near being a dangerous amount." Harry replied, half making up an explanation that would seem realistic. "If you told someone everything you know about me already, no one would believe you. I could just be lying to those who don't know about what appears when I used your ring… And you wouldn't be able to use the ring as evidence either, because if you were careless enough to tell someone about it, people who know about Grindelwald – in a good or bad way – would suspect you of being a supporter."
Silence fell after Harry's words. Riddle's expression was impassive, but Harry sensed that the other boy was shocked by these words. After a long minute, Riddle spoke again. "But then why not tell me more, knowing I can't tell anyone what I already know? If all the evidence I have is useless –"
"– Then I don't have to worry about you saying anything. If I told you more now, there's more risk of you gaining evidence. I'm willing to tell you the basic parts of my past… but nothing more."
Riddle appeared to contemplate this for another minute. Harry waited patiently for his words. "So what's the full story behind this ring?" He asked, changing the subject.
Harry paused, thinking. "It can bring back the dead, as I already told you… but it was first invented to create Inferi."
This seemed to amaze Riddle a little. "Yet you were merely calling the dead when you used it."
"The only people who can use it to create Inferi are the people who know about the magic needed to bring back the dead fully. For someone like me, it's just to call the dead. I don't know enough about it to put it to its full use. But as you can imagine, this is a lot more effective than just killing the amount of people needed to create an army, if you know what you're doing…"
Riddle looked down at his ring for a second, as he spoke next. "So it's full use is well hidden. That was a smart move… Who is it that holds these rings, initially?"
"Initially, it's only those closest to Grindelwald that have these…"
Riddle looked up at Harry as the later said this, and Harry thought he saw a sign of surprise on Riddle's face.
"I thought that you had a copy." Harry lied. He was intent upon making Tom feel a little anxious with his words. "Because it was a rather famous statement by people who admired Grindelwald, to have an item with his sign on it. The rings are usually well hidden by the public, so I was surprised… But then I found out that it was a real ring."
Riddle did not help fuel the conversation here, almost as if he was dreading the question Harry wanted to ask, to make him feel anxious. Harry knew the answer to his next question, but he was still interested in the lies.
"How did you manage to get the ring you have?"
Riddle hesitated. Harry almost smiled, glad that he was in control of making someone create a story, for once. Tom dropped his gaze to the ring on his hand as he thought, and Harry patiently waited. About twenty solid seconds passed before Riddle spoke. "I stole it from a wizard… my uncle. That was over a year ago, now. He said it was an heirloom, though I'm now supposing that this was a ruse to refrain from speaking about where it really came from."
Harry remained impassive, but in truth this reply surprised him greatly. He had thought that Riddle would lie, and make up a story about having had the ring forever… Though maybe there was no point in lying right now, because it wasn't as though Harry should be able to trace Tom's bloodline. Even when Harry knew that Tom was a parselmouth, he shouldn't know about Marvolo. He wondered for a second whether the truth had been told because Harry had been telling apparent truth…
"You met your uncle?" Harry asked.
"Yes." Tom replied.
Harry paused for a second, wondering whether he should ask about how Tom managed that without having left his orphanage or Hogwarts for a while… but he refrained from asking that. Instead he decided he wanted to hear what Tom had to say about what happened in his life earlier on. "Can you tell me more about your past?"
"There's nothing to tell about my past, really." Riddle replied. "You already know that I was born in a muggle orphanage, and I must admit that little else of any real interest happened besides that."
"Come on, there must be something interesting to talk about." Harry replied, pushing Riddle into giving him more information that he already knew. "Anything. I don't care what it is. It's not fair if you learn everything about my life while I get to learn nothing about yours."
The prospect of Tom telling Harry about his past was an amusing thought for the later, even if he roughly knew about everything that he was likely to be told. He wondered just how much Tom would tell a stranger about himself this late in his school years.
"What is it that you want to know?" Asked Riddle, his tone completely unamused. This question told Harry that Tom wasn't likely to offer up information without being directly forced to.
"How old were you when you found out about magic?" Harry asked.
"I didn't know about it fully until I was eleven, when a teacher from Hogwarts came to visit me, offering a placement at the school." Riddle replied.
"What about when you first used magic?"
"I'm guessing that I've been using magic since before I can remember, for I have no memoires of not being treated differently because of my abilities… By the time I was seven, I could control it fully, I remember. I put it to more interesting uses then…" Riddle's expression was close to that of a dog enduring the company of a younger and very annoying puppy. Harry wondered why Tom was bothering to explain the answers to the questions Harry had. Perhaps he wanted to be sure that he could ask Harry more questions later on…
"That's pretty early for using magic." Harry commented.
"When did you first use it?" Tom asked, before Harry could think of another question.
"The first time I remember using it was when I was about seven. Though it was expected, so I don't really have any particularly strong memories." Harry lied. In truth, he had been much the same as Tom with being confused by the use of magical abilities. Yet he had learnt to hope that nothing unusual would happen, instead of finding out how to control magic for good use. He had feared being punished for using his uncontrollable power in any way… "Did you go to a Muggle school when you were younger?" Harry asked, having never had the answer to such a question.
"Three schools, actually." Tom replied. "I was expelled from two of them for using magic against the other students. Though, of course, it wasn't explained as magic…"
Harry was rather surprised that Riddle had told him this so willingly, yet he was also somehow glad to hear actual pieces of Tom's past that he didn't already know. He supposed that being expelled for cruelty towards Muggle's wasn't a bad thing in Tom's mind. "But you have to be one of the best students at Hogwarts, now." Harry stated.
"I enjoy being at Hogwarts. Here I'm aloud to use magic, so I am free, thus happy to refrain from harming other people so blatantly." Riddle replied. "Did you never go to a wizarding school before Hogwarts?" He asked.
"No," Harry replied, "My foster parents decided to teach me at home instead."
"Why?" Tom asked curiously, slyly turning the conversation back towards Harry's life.
"I'm not sure. Maybe they were scared about me staying somewhere so public. They were pretty talented though, so were able to teach me most of what I know."
"But how was it that the community you later joined remained hidden even with many members?"
"The Fidelius Charm was the main thing that kept us protected. We had a headquarters, and were able to live our lives normally with it, most people visiting it every few days or so. My foster parents and I stayed there most of the time, because somewhere so safe was what we had at our own house anyway."
"So you all must have been generally powerful…"
"Yeah, I suppose so."
Riddle seemed to want to ask something else, but he fell silent instead. Perhaps he felt he would be pushing his luck if he asked anything after this. The two boys looked at each other for a moment, and Harry suddenly felt as though Riddle was looking for something in his expression as he examined him. He decided to carry on the conversation.
"Was it with parseltongue that you convince all of your friends that learning the Dark Arts from you was a good idea?" Harry asked.
"Partially. Though most of them knew of my power from what they had seen in class." Tom replied, still examining Harry. "Why did your foster parents teach you parseltongue? You had to have learnt it before you were fifteen, surely…"
"I learnt it when I was eleven." Harry decided, knowing that it was easier for younger people to learn new languages. "I suppose that they felt it would just be useful – especially for keeping secrets between us. Obviously it's generally hard for people to detect the language being spoken even right before their eyes, if they don't already know about it. They dabbled a lot in the Dark Arts when they were younger."
Riddle seemed to think this answer was believable, for he nodded and didn't press the subject. In fact, he didn't actually reply anything at all, which made Harry worry a little. Tom appeared to be thinking about something more important to him than learning more about Harry's past, as he surveyed Harry. The later decided to keep Riddle talking.
"Don't you have any more questions?" Harry asked. He wanted to hear what Riddle was thinking, if it was related to his past.
"Just one at the moment…" Riddle replied quietly.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"I'm not sure if I should ask." Riddle said, just as delicately as before.
"Why not?"
"I don't believe you have a valid answer for it."
Harry felt slightly nervous at this. "There's no question without an answer…" He stated.
"I don't believe that rule applies here." Tom responded.
Harry paused. Had he overseen some sort of plot hole in his stories? Or else was Riddle about to ask a question that didn't have a valid answer at all, because the only possible explanation available lead to a dead end? "Tell me what it is, I'm sure there's an answer…" Yet Harry wasn't sure whether he really wanted to hear this question. Not if Tom was so sure that this was so important.
"You truly want to know my question?" Tom asked, not smiling.
"Yes." Harry replied.
Riddle examined Harry's expression carefully again, as though he was still looking for something he couldn't yet see upon the other boy's face. Harry waited the long minute it took for Riddle to speak, feeling anxious with every painful second of silence as Tom and him sat upon the green couch in the empty Slytherin Common Room. "Tell me…" Said Riddle slowly. "What is this?"
As Riddle asked this, Harry felt Tom's hand rest upon his own, causing the same echoing sensation to appear on the surface of his skin. He was in half a mind to pull his hand away, but was also tempted to see what would happen if he allowed Tom's hand to stay there. To see what would happen if he allowed Tom to test this strange reaction more…
Riddle was examining Harry's expression even more intently, waiting for him to speak. Harry was lost for a minute, staring into Tom's dark grey eyes before he found the voice to speak. "I don't know what this is…" Harry said quietly, in response to Tom's initial question.
A few seconds passed, where the two boys stared at each other, but Harry pulled his hand away from Tom's. He dropped his gaze from the taller boy, and stood up. "It's late. I should probably go to bed…"
Riddle continued to look up at Harry from where he sat, but Harry didn't meet his eyes. He turned away.
"Er, well goodnight then…" Harry said, before he began to walk away.
He didn't hear Tom reply.
