Chapter 29:
"Someone sent you a rememberall?" Hermione asked, "how odd - do you have any idea who? Or why?"
Harry shrugged, turning the ball over in his hand. It was red. Always red.
"Not a clue, and I can't remember what I'm forgetting…"
"Maybe you're forgetting something is forgetting something," Ron grinned. He smiled slightly, that was pretty unlikely.
"Maybe," he conceded, frowning slightly.
That red cloud, swirling inside the ball was really bugging him now. Really bugging him. It had to be important, why else would he be given a rememberall with its very own cryptic message? He just wished he could remember what this very important thing he'd forgotten was.
"Since when have you had a rememberall?" a familiar voice asked. He looked up, Tom. He shrugged.
"Since last night," he said. "Beats me."
Tom stared at the ball for a moment.
"May I?" the Slytherin held out a hand.
Something inexplicable made him hesitate.
He could feel the teenage Dark Lord's eyes burning his skin with their intense scrutiny. Feigning light heartedness, he handed it over. There was just something about Tom in that moment that felt…different. Dangerous. Of course, Tom was Tom and Tom always had a slight air of danger around him at all times, but this was more pronounced.
"Any idea what I might have forgotten?" he question, watching the dark haired boy carefully. Tom's eyes flicked to him, then back at the ball.
"Your brain cells?" he replied, smirking. Harry narrowed his eyes.
"Oh, you're hilarious," he retorted sarcastically. Tom grinned disarmingly at him, with a wolfish flash of white teeth.
"I know."
He surveyed the rememberall for another moment, before abruptly tossing it back. It was an awkward throw, and it was only due to being a seeker that the little ball didn't smash into the table. He felt a strange unease growing in his chest, nothing to do with it being the day before Halloween, though that left him feeling slightly off too. He hated Halloween. Something bad always happened, and he hated being forced to celebrate on the night of his parents death besides. A shock of ice run through his blood, a chill. He stared thoughtfully at the rememberall, then up at Tom. Those eyes were dark, so dark. Abruptly, he smiled and pocketed it.
"Probably someone's idea of a joke," he dismissed carefully.
"Indeed," Tom said softly. "Probably best not to dwell on it Harry."
Soon it was evening. He was in the Slytherin common room. The rememberall was still red, like a flame or trapped in a vase. The nagging feeling of forgetfulness wasn't going away. Angrily, he shoved the offending ball back into his pocket. Half of him just wanted to smash the wretched orb against the wall, another small part of him stayed his hands with a lingering unease.
"You're on edge," Tom remarked idly. "Nightmares?"
He glanced up. The light of the fire seemed to make Tom look older somehow, make the lines of his face seem sharper and harsher, colder. He could just sense the magic flittering around the older boy, dark, even now.
He wasn't sure if it was alluring or repelling, which scared him more than the actual magic. Half of him wanted to run screaming from the sheer endless danger lurking beneath the surface of Tom's every move. The other half was drawn to it, addicted to the danger, wanting to get closer to the raging tempest.
It was kind of fascinating. He shook his head, getting slightly worried about himself. Tom had that quality that Voldemort didn't. The elder was terrifying, of course he was, but he was utterly repulsive. Tom sucked you in like a cold black hall, mesmerising darkness yet glittering with everything he drew in.
"It's Halloween tomorrow," he replied.
"Should we try not to kill each other this time?" Tom asked. Harry wasn't sure if he was amused, or completely serious. Tom was a hard one to read
"That could be an idea," he said, pretending to consider it. Tom smiled wryly, before his eyes flashed with a change of focus, an idea.
"I was wondering…" Tom paused. This alone made him wary. Any hesitation from Tom was ominous, it normally meant that even the master of masks wasn't completely sure how he would react. He tensed minutely, stilling and flipping his gaze up once more.
"What?" he asked, glad that his voice didn't betray him by shaking or quavering.
"Would you care to visit Godric's Hollow with me?"
You what?
AN: Aloha, it's me again. Are you sick of my crappy writing yet? Well…anyhow. Thanks for the reviews everyone =) They make me smile. Its nice to know that you're all still sticking with me and this mess of a fic, much appreciation. It's still short, but it was longer than last time…which is something, right? Anyway. I hope you enjoyed the update.