Parseltongue
Chapter 39:
Harry froze, feeling Tom's gaze snap to an alarmingly intense focus upon his person. Madame Pomfrey cast him a suspicious look.
"Wards, Madame," Tom reminded, not sparing her a glance. Madame Pomfrey's suspicion died down a little - Tom was correct, he couldn't have cast an unforgivable within the Schools without the wards picking it up. "Harry?"
"Hmm?" he asked innocently.
"Why exactly is your body showing traces of the cruciatus curse?" The Slytherin Heir sounded distinctly put out. Harry scoffed.
"Tom, when have you ever cared? You've expressed the desire to crucio me on numerous occasions." Pomfrey blanched.
"Yes," Tom replied. "But I'm allowed." Harry felt a laugh startle out of his mouth, incredulous and disbelieving.
"So it's okay if I get tortured so long as you're the only one causing it?"
"Yes," Tom said. "As it is, I haven't - so what happened?"
"If I have traces of cruciatus in my system what the hell do you think happened? I thought you were supposed to be a genius."
"I gathered that bit," Tom snapped. "I meant who and when."
Harry was about to reply flippantly, but the impatient emotion in Tom's tone made him pause. His head tilted to one side.
"My, that sounds almost like a speck of concern," he said.
"Of course it's concern," Tom's jaw was clenched. "Somebody cast a crucio on you and I didn't know about it!"
"Serious safety hazard," he commented lightly after moment. Tom frowned.
"Mr Potter, if you could just answer the question…" Madame Pomfrey requested. Harry sighed, levelling a look between them. He opened his mouth to speak.
"If you say it's nothing, or fine, I swear you will live to regret it," Tom warned dangerously.
"What, because you'll crucio me?" he mocked.
"No," Tom smiled. "But I will happen to mention to Zevi that I fear you may suffer from insomnia, post traumatic stress or any manner of infliction that would make someone want to coddle you…conveniently in the hearing of Mother Weasel."
Harry blinked, horror rising in his gut. He loved Mrs Weasley, dearly, but she would smother him so badly that he wouldn't get a second of peace! And then Sirius would find out, and everyone would freak out…and it would be a total nightmare.
"You wouldn't…" he narrowed his eyes. Tom merely raised his eyebrows in challenge. Harry folded his arms, silent for a moment. Madame Pomfrey was regarding the Slytherin Heir with something that was almost admiration. "I can feel it when he tortures people," he mumbled at last, quickly.
"Excuse me?" Madame Pomfrey said. "I didn't quite catch that dear." It was a conspiracy. He could feel his irritation rising.
"I said I can feel it when he tortures people," he repeated, his voice came out louder than he meant it to be.
"He…" Madame Pomfrey's eyes widened, filling with pity and dismay. He could tell she had worked out who 'he' was.
"Voldemort," Tom confirmed quietly, disregarding the nurses flinch. Harry nodded. "Every curse?" the young Dark Lord demanded. "Every vision?"
"Yeah."
"Why on earth didn't you say something!" Madame Pomfey exclaimed, sounding scandalised.
"Would it make a difference?" he shrugged, moving to stand up off the bed. Tom was silent, appraising him with an unreadable expression on his face. "Thanks for the potion," he said, smiling slightly. He fled before she could protest.
Tom remained unspeaking as they headed back to the common room, though Harry could feel his gaze like a physical weight. They let themselves in - the common room was half empty by now. He dropped onto one of the sofas, ignoring the curious eyes around the room that were surreptitiously tracking his movement. He heard Tom settle beside him, eyes still studying his features.
"It's rude to stare," he said irritably.
"How long?" Tom questioned.
"How long what?" he asked, though he had feeling he knew what Tom meant.
"How long does the torture last?"
"Taking lessons are we?" he replied. He pulled a roll of parchment out of his bag, and a quill, stopping when one of Tom's hands came over his to still his movement.
"Harry," he hissed. Harry's eyes flicked up.
"It's muted, not as bad as the actual thing," he replied finally. "He's not actually casting it at me."
"That doesn't answer the question," Tom deadpanned. He repressed the urge to sigh again.
"No more than an hour. Most of his prisoners break before thirty minutes are through."Tom was silent once more.
"Come on," he said suddenly, standing up and snatching Harry's bag and work. Harry growled under his breath in annoyance, making a lunge for his belongings. Tom smirked, sidestepping and heading for the dorms.
"For god's sake," he muttered, getting up to follow the Slytherin heir. Once in the dorms, Tom tossed his bag to the floor and, ignoring the stares, dragged him to the bathroom for some privacy. Harry folded his arms impatiently. "What now?" he demanded.
"Give me your arm," Tom instructed, holding out a hand. Harry paused.
"Why?" he questioned. Tom seemed to be resisting rolling his eyes, making an impetuous gesture for him to follow the order.
"I'm going to see if I can do anything about your nightly torture sessions." Harry blinked. That wasn't what he was expecting. When he didn't move, Tom pulled the appendage over himself, rolling up his sleeve and placing a hand over the mark. The crescent moon shapes morphed into the snake, and Harry's skin tingled. With the other hand, Tom made a move towards his head.
"Whoa," Harry took an uneasy step back. "What exactly are you going to do?"
Tom sighed in a long-suffering manner.
"I'm going to take control of your magic to hopefully put a temporary mental block up between you and Voldemort."
"You can take control of my magic?" Harry looked down at the mark in horror. Tom's lips curved into a slight smirk.
"Only if you let me," he said. "Will you?"
Harry hesitated. Tom looked at him patiently.
"If you take an oath that you're only doing what you said you'd do," he replied finally, after weighing the pros and cons in his head.
"Of course," Tom drawled. "I would expect no less from you. Your trust in me is truly inspiring."
"Yes, because it's not like you're not a scheming, manipulative bastard," he retorted. Tom grinned, before growing serious once more.
"I Tom Marvolo Riddle hereby swear on my life that in this instance, I will only use the magic of Harry James Potter to try and build a temporary mind block in his head, until he can do it for himself." There was a glow of magic, before it sunk back under the other's skin. "Satisfied?"
Harry nodded, slowly, letting Tom's hand find his head. There was a moment of silence, and, and, nothing happened. Tom glared at him, with a small tinge of amusement.
"What?" he asked.
"Stop blocking me and relax. I'm not going to hurt you - can you do that? Take a deep breath."
"So you need consent to take over the magic?" He confirmed again, feeling relieved. Tom met his gaze for a moment.
"I need consent to take over your magic," he said. Harry's head tilted. They fell silent again.
"But not the others? Why?" he questioned. His curiosity was bubbling now.
"Potter," Tom said tightly. "I'm trying to concentrate here. Look it up later."
"Can't you just tell me?"
"No," Tom returned. "Don't be lazy. Researching will do you good."
"Can you at least give me a hint as to what book I need?"
"Auras. Power levels. Now shut up."
Harry bit his lip, quietening once more. He took a deep breath, then felt his magic shift. His muscles locked with tension, and Tom's grip tightened as he swore under his breath.
"Easy," the Slytherin heir murmured soothingly. "You're fighting me again."
"I cant help it," he snapped.
"Then this is going to be painful for you," Tom replied.
He flinched as he felt a Tom's magic ram at his, wrapping around it and tugging. It felt weird and hell, it was agony. He gritted his teeth. Tom was talking quietly to him, but the words were buzzing over his head, then the pain was gone and he was drifting…he could sense the magic, but he couldn't do anything.
Shuddering at the sensation of vulnerability and helplessness that shot through his body at the lack of magic, he concentrated on breathing deeply. He felt a pang of intense terror. lHis head was throbbing, then he felt something click. A second later, his magic rushed back and he abruptly jerked away from Tom, trying not to be sick. A deep ache, one he hadn't even realised was there, seemed to be lifted. He looked up after a moment to see Tom leaning against the sink, ashen faced with his eyes closed.
"Tom - you alright?" he asked worriedly, straightening. Tom's eyes didn't open.
"Fine, don't worry hero."
Harry studied him carefully, before realisation hit. Tom was tired, drained from what had to have been a heavy use of magic. He felt a surge of guilt and gratitude.
"Thanks," he said. Tom's eyes opened, and his mouth twisted into something like a smile.
"Don't be such a girl, Harry."
Harry grinned. After a few seconds, Tom straightened businesslike, his masks locking into position. All trace of weariness was gone, though Harry sensed it was still there. "If you wake me up I'm going kill you," Tom muttered, leaving the bathroom. Harry smiled to himself.
Maybe Tom wasn't so bad as he liked to make out.
He still wiped his memory though. And was a manipulative git.
Damn. He was confused.
A/N: Well, I hope you liked it. Last update in a while, cause I'm going away on holiday and have exams when I get back. Thanks for the reviews, they inspire me. Chapter 1 and 2 of the rewrite are up, if you want to go back and read them, like another mini update of their own. They've changed quite a lot. Anyhow, enjoy? - The Fictionist