06 - The Restricted Section

Harry was walking down a long, narrow path. It coiled, crammed between uneven walls that towered over him before fading into the darkness above. He was walking slowly, far from in a rush. Although he had no idea where he was, he was heading towards a light that he could just about make out at the end of the winding path. If he had asked himself how he got here, Harry would have no satisfactory answer to give, for all he could remember was that he had emerged from blackness to find himself here, heading towards this faint light.

He felt very calm, as though the sight of room full of objects held great comfort for him. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he had no idea where he was, but the thought didn't seem important enough for him to register fully. It was irrelevant, because all that mattered in his blissful state of calmness was that he should follow the light up ahead. It was curious, it was the only reason he was here at all.

The end of the path was nearing. His surroundings became clearer in the light, making it feel more real than ever. Harry could see various objects crammed onto tall shelves around him, he could see he was standing in an arched room. Towards the direction of the light, a faint sound could be heard. It was a mumbling voice, accompanied by the rustling of book pages and the occasional frustrated groan. Harry was standing in an intersection of various paths cutting through the clutter. He ambled closer to the light and noise, intent upon finding out more about it.

The sound of footsteps falling only slightly faster than Harry's own came into notice. Harry turned around, feeling no fear because of his state of tranquillity.

"Hello Harry," Tom greeted, unable to hide his smile. "How nice it is that you could join me this evening."

"Hey," Harry responded vaguely. He felt as though he was supposed to be tired, yet couldn't feel it. "Why're we here?"

"There's something I would like to show you... Carry on walking."

Harry did as Tom suggested; curiosity was drawing his mind back to the light.

At a closer view, he could just about make out the silhouette of someone standing between Harry and a lantern, facing a tall piece of furniture. A few steps onwards, Harry could see it was a wizard working on something, wand held aloft, Hogwarts School robes visible. He was mumbling incantations, showing deep stress in the way he spoke and the way he held himself. At the sight of his sleek blond hair pushed back (many pieces of it slipping down carelessly by this point), Harry registered that it looked like Draco Malfoy.

The sight shocked him, forcing him to stop walking. The dreamy feeling of calmness vanished in a second, leaving him watch in utter confusion as Malfoy continued, uninterrupted, to work upon the complex magic he was preforming. Draco withered in frustration and fear as he repeated the names of spells over and over again, continuing to face the cupboard in front of him. He kept running his shaking fingers through his currently sweaty and greasy hair, pushing back the strands that fell down from the rest, obscuring his vision. He had an expression of utter strain twisted onto his face. What forced Harry most of all to break away from his calmness was to see that Draco was close to tears.

There was nothing obvious to suggest what Draco was doing. It looked as though he was trying to mend a cabinet with magic, but Harry couldn't think why. Draco had loosened the collar of his robes, had rolled up his sleeves to try and help how sweaty he was becoming in annoyance and sorrow. He kept muttering to himself between his spells, cursing about it all when he seemingly failed repetitively to fix this piece of furniture.

"What's he doing?"

Tom gave no answer. He stood next to Harry, watching Malfoy with shared interest.

"This must be where he goes... It explains why he looks so ill. But, why?"

He turned to look at Tom when again no answer was given.

"Can't you at least tell me where we are?" Harry asked.

"You never asked before."

"Well, I'm asking now."

The light from the lantern next to Malfoy flickered sharp, varying shadows across Tom's face, yet it did nothing to stop his handsomeness. "We're at Hogwarts."

This confused Harry. "I've never been in here before."

"Yes you have," Tom informed him quietly. "The room merely changed it's form."

Then, quite suddenly, it made sense to Harry. "This must be what the Room of Requirement turns into for Malfoy!"

A smile crept upon Tom's lips. "Indeed, it is."

Harry beamed. "This is brilliant!"

"I'm glad you think so."

"So whatever he's doing," Harry carried on, overjoyed and excited at the whole idea of being here, "that must be why he's been acting so oddly this year, it must be what all of this is about. I can't believe you found a way in, Tom!"

"It wasn't difficult, after following him."

"I can't believe this..." Harry stepped closer to Malfoy in awe, being careful not to make any noise. He had caught onto the idea that he wasn't supposed to be heard. There was no other reason for the both of them to use Parseltongue like this, after all. Harry had only noticed they weren't speaking English when he thought about Malfoy hearing them; he had followed Tom's use of language without thought or struggle. "What's he doing?"

"He appears to be fixing a cupboard," Tom said dryly.

Harry let out a breath of laughter, finding this very amusing in his happiness. "But why?"

"That I don't know."

This part didn't make sense to Harry. Malfoy continued to work on his spells, skipping through pages upon pages of books in an attempt to find more magic to try, Harry supposed. But why would Malfoy be spending so much time and energy fixing up an old cupboard? Why did he need Crabbe and Goyle to go to such lengths to protect the corridors around Room of Requirement for him to do this, why was he becoming so ill so quickly while he threw away all his usual activities in the school to come here so often?

"I do, however," Tom continued, "know that upon his arm is something that will be of more interest – more meaning – to you at this time..."

Harry's eyes dropped to Malfoy's rolled-up sleeves. He nearly gasped in shock; there, etched deeply into his bare forearm, lay a blackened image. It rose the surface of skin beneath it to give even more shadow and definition to it's shape, only adding to the eerily life-like appearance of the skull. With gaping eye sockets and a snake entwined through it, and through the widened mouth that engulfed it, the Dark Mark upon Draco's arm looked identical to so many others Harry had seen.

"He's a Death Eater..." Harry was barely able to believe it even as he said this. "I knew he had to be – I knew I wasn't wrong! Ron and Hermione never believed me, they never thought Draco was capable of – of..."

"Of working for Voldemort," Tom finished quietly.

Harry tore his eyes away from Draco. As he looked at Tom, he wasn't sure what he should and shouldn't say.

"Rather, he appears to be following Voldemort's orders," Tom added after a moment. "This doesn't yet mean Malfoy is working for him, necessarily."

"You say 'him'... so, you don't consider yourself the same as Voldemort, then?"

Tom turned to face him. Harry couldn't read his expression. "I am not the Voldemort you've learnt about since your years of understanding the wizarding world, Harry. He and I are different."

Somehow, Harry was glad to hear this. He was in half a mind to ask why they were different, but Tom turned back to Malfoy with an air that suggested this settled the whole matter, so Harry fell silent. His mind was full of thoughts about Malfoy in an instant.

"I recognise that cupboard..."

"Do you?"

"Yeah, there was one that looked like it at Borgin and Burkes – I remember it because Malfoy was there, asking about it."

Tom thought about this. "Do you think the two items might have a connection?"

"Well, it can hardly be coincidence," Harry reasoned. "Why else would he be here fixing this cupboard, after asking about the other one?"

"Perhaps he has an unstoppable passion for furnishing."

Harry smiled at the joke, being careful not to laugh.

"On a serious note, however," Tom said, "whatever it is that Voldemort has asked Malfoy to complete, it wouldn't appear as though he's having much success."

"Yeah..." The look on Malfoy's face suggested Tom was indeed right.

Harry felt a sense of relief at thinking that Voldemort's request wasn't going well, but he was reluctant to hate Draco at this moment. Despite the fact he was blatantly a Death Eater doing some sort of task for Voldemort, the expression he showed in what he trusted was solitude made it clear how he was feeling inside. It flooded Harry with pity that he couldn't quite shake off; he could see this was torture for him. Harry knew Voldemort must be threatening him, threatening his family...

"You aren't happy..."

Tom had spoken these words with such confusion, it immediately caught Harry's attention. He had his head tilted slightly to one side as he stared at Harry with red eyes.

"Does this not please you?" Tom asked.

The was a moment of silence. Then, understanding, Harry explained, "I'm not disappointed in what you're showing me – not at all. It's just, I'm worried about what Malfoy's up to."

Tom lifted his head slowly back up into it's normal position, never dropping his gaze. "Are you still glad I brought you here?"

"Yeah, I'm still glad," Harry told him, trying to hide his slight confusion. "I've been looking for this place, and for Draco, for months. It's really brilliant."

After a moment, Tom inclined his head slowly, as if to express that this was now understood.

Harry had no idea why it would matter to Tom weather he was happy to see this. It made him wonder if perhaps Tom had brought him here as a sort of present, rather than just to help him understand what Malfoy was up to. Tom might have believed that Harry would truly feel joy being here, meaning that in a twisted sort of way this was Tom's attempt to make Harry happy.

"I don't know how you got in here," Harry said. "Dobby and Kreacher couldn't find a way in even after tailing Malfoy for hours. Though, I suppose Crabbe and Goyle might have stopped them from following him all the way to the Room of Requirement..."

"Indeed," Tom agreed, "It's difficult for even an elf to escape their notice, as dim as they seem. Their dedication to follow Draco's orders, and by extent Voldemort's, has led it to become harder for anyone to catch Malfoy in the act of even walking to the Room of Requirement."

Harry was a little taken aback by Tom's confident words. "You seem to know the situation well."

"I wanted to make sure it was possible to access this room whilst Malfoy was working."

It must have taken quite a bit of work for Tom to get him in here, Harry thought... Then another thought struck him. If Tom had managed to follow Draco here, he must have found a way to access this room a few minutes after Draco went inside, to be sure that he could be here without being noticed...

"So, you must know what he wanted this room to turn into, then?"

He hoped Tom wouldn't find his eager tone suspicious.

"Yes," Tom told him, "I know what he wanted this room to turn into."

Harry waited, but Tom didn't elaborate upon his answer. He decided to ask, "Can you tell me what he asked the room to be?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"It's been driving me mad for months," Harry explained.

Tom thought about this. "It would be unwise for you to visit this place again, Harry."

"I know," Harry said, "but I really want to know how you got in here."

This amused Tom, somehow. "Well, in that case... Draco merely desired a place to hide."

"And that brought him here?"

"It did indeed."

"To come fix a cupboard amongst thousands of random objects?" Harry asked in disbelief. He was beginning to think none of this was reality after all. "I don't believe it."

"Initially Draco desired to hide a cabinet in this room," Tom said. "I know this from overhearing a conversation between his two followers – Crabbe and Goyle, as you call them. Why it is of interest to Draco, I'm not sure, but what I do know is that whatever it may be used for, it is of great value to even the Dark Lord himself."

It must have some terrible use then, Harry thought. The cabinet seemed so normal, so simple, that Harry honestly couldn't think how it could be used as a weapon, or as something that would interest Voldemort. Just thinking about it having a terrible use, however, made Harry see it as a suddenly ominous, scary item...

"I do believe this is all we need to see from Mister Malfoy tonight, however," Tom voiced quietly.

Harry felt oddly downhearted to hear this. "You're leaving?"

He hadn't thought before saying it; he heard his mistake as soon as the words were out.

"I – I mean," he began lamely, confused by himself, "I don't want to go back, not yet."

"I was going to offer for you to accompany me to another interesting place," Tom said calmly."It's good that you are eager to continue... This second location is again somewhat hidden within the castle, thus I hope it will be of some interest to you."

Harry couldn't imagine where else at Hogwarts they might need to visit at this hour, but an odd reluctance to return back to his dreams encouraged him to agree to this. "Where did you want to go?"

"Give me your arm..." Tom took a step forwards. "I'll show you."

Harry stared into Tom's dark eyes, unsure. He remembered, however, that he had nowhere else he needed to be, and he most certainty didn't want to fall back into sleep again. Without a word, he took a step or two closer to Tom, linking their arms together. It felt odd being so close to Tom, touching. He was surprised to find that Tom was whole and real; he had half expected to reach out and grasp nothing but air in a vain attempt to get closer. It made him think back to Grimmauld Place, think back to Tom then...

"Should we just leave him like this?" Harry asked, referring to Draco who continued to whimper and whisper in desperation at his work. It was quite a sad sight...

"He'll never know we were even here."

Harry supposed this was true. He was distracted, however, by Tom's arm within his. Knowing they were about to travel somewhere else, he expected this to be something like Apparition, but he was mistaken. Harry was watching Tom's handsome face as the area around them faded to black. They stood for a moment, only able to see each other, before they vanished from sight too. Harry was left feeling Tom's arm within his, listening to the sound of his calm, even breath.

There was a faint flicking sound like the strike of a match: Tom was igniting a light. Everything faded into view sharply so Harry could see where they were. They were standing between two long, neat rows of shelves that were holding innumerable books behind ancient screened doors, secured with various locks and chains. The low ceiling above them gave this place the feeling of an underground tunnel, with distant breaks in the shelves where pathways crossed half-hidden in the shadows the lantern could never quite reach. Harry thought that perhaps this was just another part of the Room of Requirement, but somehow he doubted it.

"Where are we?"

"We're in Hogwarts' Library," Tom answered in English. "This is a deep part of the Restricted Section, it is a place where very few of Hogwarts' students ever roam."

"Why did you bring me here?" Harry asked, stepping back a little after slipping his arm out of Tom's. He felt as though he shouldn't be too close to Tom for so long.

"I thought you might appreciate the chance to visit the school's most securely kept collection of information," Tom explained softly. "For thousands of years, witches and wizards intent upon preserving a whole history of knowledge have been gathering these very books, hoping to contribute to one of the best collections of information that the wizarding world has ever seen. It is truly a fascinating assemblage."

Despite having been in the Restricted Section of the library before, Harry couldn't recall ever seeing this part of it. He wondered how deep the Restricted Section must be as he figured idly that Tom probably knew the library well. "Hermione would love this."

Tom was mildly confused. "This is a peculiar thing to mention."

"She visits the library loads," Harry explained, "she's constantly reading. Though, come to think of it she probably knows about this part anyway..."

Tom made no response. Harry was distracted momentarily by thoughts of Hermione. He felt sad to think about how these books reminded him of her, but he wasn't sure why. He felt as though he was remembering someone he had lost, but Hermione was still alive, was still at Hogwarts with him. She was still his friend, wasn't she? She was still here...

As he thought, his eyes scanned the golden lettering spelling out the titles of the books around them, but he couldn't see it properly in this light. He still wasn't really sure why he was here, because as far as he could remember he had never spoken to Tom about having an interest in reading.

"You can pick one out, if you would like to," Tom said. He had been watching Harry.

"They're all locked up," Harry pointed out. "Plus, it's not like I can take any, I'm not supposed to be here at all."

Tom extended his hand to the shelf closest to them, making an elegant sweeping motion above it. There was a muffled 'bang' and visible sparks as the lock cracked open, appearing as undamaged as it might have been if Tom had used a key. The door to the shelf swung open.

"Choose one. It could very well be interesting."

A refusal would be rude by this point, Harry thought. He tried to decide which book looked the most interesting out of the collection in front of him, but it was difficult – they were almost all bound in identical shades of dark brown and black.

"They all look the same," Harry commented. He was still unable to read any of the titles in this light.

"What about this one?" Tom suggested.

As soon as he said it, a black book began sliding out of the shelf. Harry reached out his hands up to grasp it before it would fall.

"Take another," Tom suggested as soon as the book was in his hands, "there are many, after all."

Harry hesitated. He couldn't see why any of these books would be of interest to him, especially since he didn't even know what they were about. "I... I don't really think that I –"

There was another muffled 'crack', then another. Tom had opened two more shelves and around three books were gliding in the air towards Harry. They began to stack themselves a neat pile, one on top of the other. Harry stood clutching the first book in his hands, staring at the others by his feet while he wondered what on earth he was supposed to do with all this. The books were quite heavy and smelt pungent with age.

"What are these about?" Harry asked slowly. Judging from the eagerness Tom showed to try and get him to read all of this by his selection, he was beginning to fear that this wasn't just an innocent trip to the library that Tom thought would be interesting.

"There are a variety of subjects to be found written about in the Restricted Section, of course," Tom responded.

Harry was suspicious. It hadn't slipped his notice that this was a pretty vague answer to a direct question. Looking back down at the books, Harry idly ran his fingers over the one in his hands. There was an odd sort of design upon it, making it darker in some places. It was clear now that Tom had had brought him here for a bad reason...

Without asking again, Harry opened the book. As he skimmed through the first few pages it looked normal, to his relief, but it was only a matter of seconds before he reached far enough into it to see it was far from an innocent read. Descriptions and illustrations on various pieces of Dark Magic filled the pages, interrupted by long instructions on how to learn the magic itself, how to preform the magic discreetly, but never how to accurate reverse the action of magic once used – if it was ever possible. This particular book seemed to be about the more gruesome side of Transfiguration.

Whether it was from shock or hope, or a mix of the two, Harry found himself shutting the book with little consideration for it's age, swiftly kneeling down to place it next to the pile of others. He picked up a second book, opening it with haste and finding it was as evil as the first book had been. It showed images of witches and wizards in silent, desperate agony next to long texts giving voice to a history of potions that were used for sinister reasons throughout the decades. A third book showed only mysterious beasts at their most dangerous, discussing what useful magical properties dark wizards gained from their rare carcasses.

All of this was terrifying Harry more than he could comprehend. The idea that Tom would bring him here to try and make him read about Dark Magic was odd, but the fact that he had blatantly tried to bribe Harry before this by showing him Draco, as well as the fact that Harry knew he would have no choice but to be in this dream with Tom when Tom wanted, made this all terrifying to him. He didn't understand what was going on.

"I don't want to read this," Harry said numbly. It was all he could say.

"Harry –"

He stood up, holding the first book between tightly gripped hands. He wanted to get rid of all of these – he didn't want to see the dark magic nor the gruesome illustrations in these books and he certainly didn't want to be near them. This suddenly felt like a nightmare rather than the real experience he had firmly believed it was before. Harry was trying hard to push the book back into place, trying to make enough space between the row to let it slide through, when suddenly he stopped.

Tom's hand was resting upon his. His touch was gentle, but it was enough to calm Harry within seconds, to make him forget why he was panicking. As he stood facing the bookshelf, Tom was standing right behind him, leaning more to the left of him. His fingers slid around Harry's, his thumb rubbing up and down Harry's soothingly. Harry listened to him breathing, confused and enthralled by his swift choice of comfort.

After a moment Tom learnt forwards just a little, until his lips were almost touching Harry's ear. Harry was frozen in anticipation. Tom was millimetres away from him...

"I want you to fix me," Tom whispered to him. Harry could feel his breath on the back of his ear, on his neck. "I need you to fix me..."

Harry was shaking slightly, quivering. He wanted to blame it on the fear from earlier, but he was far from scared by this point. He knew Tom would feel it, but he couldn't stop. Moreover he knew he shouldn't like this, shouldn't want Tom so close to him, but he just couldn't help himself. He felt Tom's hand grip his more tightly, more affectionately as he shook every so often. He was thinking back to Grimmauld Place again, to when Tom had kissed his hand. He was thinking back to how much he had enjoyed such a simple gesture...

To his utter disbelief, Tom was leaning closer to him. He touched Harry's ear with the tip of his nose softly, as though it might have been a mistake... if Harry didn't like it. But Harry liked it very much. Tom could hear this from his quiet gasp, he could feel it in the way Harry tensed. His nose moved down slowly to the sensitive skin by Harry's earlobe, and he breathed more deeply against him. Harry could hear his every breath, could listen to Tom's desire.

Tom brushed his lips against Harry's neck. This one touch made Harry take a deep intake of breath, bringing him a close to a moan already, almost before he could stop it. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply... Tom could be so much closer...

Then, Harry felt something dropping onto his shoulder. Tom stopped kissing him in an instant and he opened his eyes. It felt like liquid had fallen on him, and when he looked down at his shirt he was alarmed to see blood soaking into it, dropping from what he knew must be Tom's rapidly bleeding nose and mouth. Harry backed up in fear and heard the book in his hand fall to the floor as he let it go, but he didn't end up crashing into Tom, as he had expected to.

Tom must have decided he had to end this 'dream'. He was gone and Harry fell back into nothing but darkness. He was drifting away, all of his panic, worry, and fear slipping from him as he became engulfed in sleep, without having any power to stop it... or to choose staying with Tom instead...