Chapter 74:
Harry stared at the door, completely nonplussed, unmoving.
"Now," Tom growled. "Unless you'd like to pay your Godfather for the doors I break down."
That got Harry moving, and he stumbled to his feet, the locket hanging limply in his grip. He released the charm, pulling the door open a crack.
Tom looked distinctly unimpressed, gaze surveying him intently. He could see everyone else peering at them from down the corridor. He didn't stand aside, blinking, wondering if isolation had made him start hallucinating.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked blankly. Tom arched his brows, with a 'you have to ask' look in his face, one hand raising and absently pushing him backwards from the door so he could enter. Harry staggered back slightly and Tom shut the door behind him, locking and silencing it against the sound of feet inching closer outside, before the Slytherin Heir rounded on him once more, arms folded lazily as he leant against the door.
"What happened to 'write me if you were in trouble?'" Tom returned. Harry ignored this - he wasn't in trouble - and persisted.
"Tom, this is Order Headquarters…how can you be here?"
Tom looked around him with interest.
"Is it? They just told me it was your Godfather's house…thanks for the hint, I'll make sure to raid the cabinets for plans and secret documents. What happened to 'write me if you were in trouble?'" Tom repeated.
"I'm not in trouble," Harry said, staring at the other. Tom gave him a dangerous look.
"Ah, so you locked yourself in a room and refused to communicate with anyone for fun then…I see…enjoying yourself with that? You look terrible, by the way."
Harry's grip tightened around the locket in his hand.
"They called you?" he asked, disbelieving. The light side, Dumbledore, had willingly invited Tom to Grimmauld Place? He couldn't get his head around it.
"I always said you weren't stupid," Tom said dryly "But yes, though I would have eventually got round the Fidelius charm on my own accord. Your emotions are giving me a headache."
Harry couldn't think. It was just a shock to see Tom again, here, of all places. The Slytherin Heir's head tilted to one side.
"So," Tom stated flatly. "Why have you shut yourself in a room-what is that?" Tom's eyes had fixed on his hand, on the locket, as he immediately strode forward, fingers closing around Harry's and pulling the locket to dangle in the space between them, though he didn't actually touch the golden jewellery. Harry blinked.
"It's a locket," he said. "Obviously."
"A lock…" Tom's gaze snapped up to his from the ornate 's', his other hand seizing Harry's collar with lightning fast reflexes. "When did you get it? Have you opened it and why do you have this?"
Harry tugged back slightly, his mind whizzing in confusing circles, but Tom didn't let go, tightening his grip instead in a clear order for Harry to "stay put and answer."
"It's just a locket," he began defensively, trying to bring it closer to his chest, protectively. "Why are you-"
"It's a horcrux," Tom said. Harry dropped the thing as if it had scalded him, while Tom's magic darted out to catch it before it could hit the floor, levitating it gently in the air between them. "You didn't know, more so you didn't notice," Tom stated, eyeing him. "And that was a rather vehement reaction, even for you. Don't even bother trying to tell me you're fine."
Harry swallowed slightly, stare fixed on the golden locket. The Horcrux.
"It's something to do with Horcruxes," Tom guessed, regarding him intently, searching for clues as to whether he was on the right track or not. Harry's mouth felt dry.
"Get that thing away from me," he murmured, voice croaky. Tom's fingers flexed slightly, his hands drawn to the locket, though once more not quite touching, a fascinated shine to his countenance.
"It seems it heard you," Tom stated softly. Harry staggered back a step. Horrified. Tom's eyes followed him carefully, before he smiled twistedly.
"It disgusts you, terrifies you, more than it used to and you were never particularly favourable to the idea," Tom continued, walking forwards for every step he took back, more away from the Horcrux then Tom. "That leads me to conclude that something has enhanced your fear of Horcruxes. Has their perhaps been an incident with this one? But no…you didn't know what this truly was, you actually seemed to rather favour it," Tom's eyes gleamed at that. Harry's jaw clenched.
Tom stopped only inches away from him, while Harry trembled, eyes fixed on the locket rather than Tom's face. It was cowardly, it was not fitting for a Gryffindor, it was…slender fingers forced his gaze upwards and away from the Horcrux.
"So," Tom murmured, "what have you found out?"
Harry was quiet, body tense, unable to look away. The silence became clogging.
"You know," Tom said casually, "I could ask the locket if you're just going to sit there, un-answering…which is rather rude of you, by the way."
Could Tom do that? Would the Horcrux respond to him? He didn't want to find out.
"I found a book on Horcruxes," Harry explained tightly. "It goes into detail…Tom how could you even consider it? They're vile, evil-" Tom clamped a hand over his mouth, dangerous.
"Careful darling, you're outnumbered two to one on that opinion right now," the Slytherin Heir murmured. Two to one? The locket. He was referring to the locket, it's feelings. "My soul? Vile? You think so?" Tom continued, something in his tone.
"Not yours," Harry explained frantically, when Tom allowed him to speak. "Voldemort's"
"You know that little anagram?" Tom interrupted, devoid of a smile. "It's present tense: 'I am Lord Voldemort,' not I was, or will be, or might be or won't be if Harry wills it not to be true - am!."
Harry refused to flinch or look away.
Tom studied him for a moment, his voice softening.
"Don't you think you're overreacting to this, just a little bit? Honestly, it's not going to bite you."
"How do you know?" Harry snapped. "Tom Riddle's Di-your-THE diary tried to kill me and possess Ginny."
"Well, you were trying to end it's existence, that's just self-preservation. I'd attack you too if threatened my livelihood, and as for Weasley…don't get me started on the little wench," Tom said disgustedly. "Add that it's my soul, no matter the variant and of course I know what it will or will not do. It will not harm you, you're being ridiculous. Here," Tom floated the Horcrux closer to him, "take it. It suits you."
Harry let the locket dangle on his wrist where Tom's magic dropped it, eyeing it warily, making no effort to improve his grip on it, but nor to push it away. It gave a reassuring thrum. He regarded it suspiciously.
"Look, come here," Tom ordered, reaching for his temples. Harry jerked back, unable to help it, nervous of letting Tom pluck out every little thing bothering him…for why else would he be reaching for Harry's mind except for legilimency?
Tom didn't pause, merely grasping his head firmly in his hands. Harry's fingers curled around the locket automatically, when it began to slip from his grip.
"What are you doing?" he asked, numbly. God, he was tired.
"Looking to see if the locket had any adverse effects on you, or somehow caused your sudden burst of angst, because it's depressive even for you," Tom replied flippantly.
"You think its possessed me?" Harry blanched, alarmed. Tom rolled his eyes.
"No…but did you know that sometimes people who don't have the traits of a moronic, reckless Gryffindor, yes, such beings exist, surprise! Do this thing called 'checking', and, oh, guess what? This will amaze you, it's due to taking these actions called 'safety precautions." Isn't that simply radical?"
Harry snorted, amused despite himself. There was something about Tom that made it difficult to truly "angst" in his presence.
"I know what a safety precaution is," he replied.
"Besides," Tom continued, favouring him with the lingering sceptical expression, presumably because of what his response. "You're just going to work yourself into an even bigger panic attack if you're left to your own devices and uncertainties - that's why you should write me."
Harry didn't have time to reply to that before he felt the horribly familiar sensation of Tom picking through his memories of the last couple of days at warp speed. In under a minute, the 'check' was done, and Tom released him, confirming that the Horcrux hadn't actually done anything evil to him, and that on the contrary, it had actually been one of the things that stopped him from doing something "utterly stupid."
Harry wasn't sure what he felt about that. He knew Tom had also come across the memory of the Horcrux book…had probably deliberately searched for it to avoid the "time-consuming" conversation where Harry explained what he'd found out.
There was a moment of quiet, before Tom spoke again, an expression of understanding and realisation upon his features for the first time since Horcruxes had become a topic/issue between them.
"What do you think a 'soul' is?" Tom questioned. Harry paused, uncertain, thoughtful.
"It's, er, well it's what makes us 'us', isn't it? Like, our life force? Our essence…immortal spirit-y thing?" he offered hesitantly, stumbling over the definition of a word he'd never had to explain before.
"And what do you think happens after we die?" Tom questioned. Harry's brow furrowed.
"Well, I presume there must be some type of afterlife…we have ghosts after all, necromancers…but I don't know, I'm not particularly religious, didn't really go to church with the Dursleys…so I don't really believe in Heaven, or Hell. We just…I don't know, go somewhere. Elsewhere. What about you?"
Tom looked surprised momentarily. "What do you think?" Harry elaborated.
"You don't find the idea of hedging your bets on the unknown unsavoury?" Tom asked, not really responding, looking deep in thought. Harry merely shrugged.
"Everyone's scared of the unknown," he said carefully, "but if you're asking about whether or not I'm afraid to die? No, I'm not. In some ways, it can be viewed as something as a relief."
Tom looked very much like he wanted to flat out tell Harry he was wrong.
"So…if you don't believe in Heaven or Hell, where exactly is your ground for hating Horcruxes? Don't say because 'it's not human' you get on fine with the wolf outside."
"Moral opposition," Harry said, not missing a beat. "The soul should not be torn apart…"
"Why?" Tom persisted. Harry frowned.
"Because it's your soul! You can't, I don't know, move on without it…"
"Which is irrelevant if you don't plan to move on at all," Tom said, tone filled with conviction.
"Just cause you plan on boring yourself with immortality doesn't mean I do…what does the Horcrux do to me?"
"Protects you while you're alive, as it needs you to sustain it, presumably takes over your body when you're dead…doesn't immortality suddenly sound so much more appealing, horcrux-boy?"
Harry stared at Tom, aghast, unbelieving that the other had just said that, or called him that.
"No!" he exclaimed. "It still sounds horrible. It's not like my body matters in comparison to my soul once I've moved on anyway."
Tom merely raised his eyebrows at that, something ominous glinting in his gaze, before he replied:
"From your reactions, one may think it was your position as a Horcrux that has turned you into a hermit who doesn't sleep…and when was the last time you ate? You're far too skinny, and you were thin before."
"Maybe it was," Harry said defiantly. "It says it's dangerous to get too emotionally dependant on a Horcrux, I'm not going to risk the people I care about just because I'm…" Harry trailed off.
"Vile?" Tom offered, callously. Harry winced.
"I don't think your soul is vile," he said, feeling like he'd put his foot in it. "I just…" he trailed off again.
"Think it's vile," Tom finished
."No!" Harry snapped, irritated, "stop saying that! You know perfectly well I don't think your soul is vile, if I did I wouldn't spend time with you. Salazar…"
"But you think Horcruxes are," Tom said, studying him.
"Yes," Harry said, not denying it. "The soul is not supposed to be mutilated."
"Technically, it's just moved to a different location…like an out of body experience," Tom retorted.
Harry's lip twitched, even though he was painfully aware of the fact that he probably couldn't get Tom to see the moral wrong in Horcruxes. It involved murder for crying out loud! Yes, he'd killed someone before and would probably kill again to protect those he loved, but that didn't make it any less immoral.
He sighed, absently wondering when in the conversation his self-loathing had abated.
Despite his status as a psychopath, Tom was very good at reassuring him…although that probably was because Tom was a psychopath so all need for morality largely got batted away in his presence due to his unflinching logic.
"We're not going to ever agree on this, are we?" Harry questioned, torn between despair and hysterics.
"Probably not," Tom agreed mildly. "Your level of morality is sickening…so frankly if you do die, even with a Horcrux you'd probably float straight up to where the angels lie."
Harry felt slightly uncomfortable.
"Do you believe in Heaven, Tom?" he asked, wondering if Tom would actually reply this time.
"No. Only hell."
A/N: So this kind of run away with me, and here seemed like a good place to stop…
Thank you SO much for the sheer number of reviews! I feel so loved. Yay! I am in shock, and awe... THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! As such, I felt the need to give you a super fast update to show my sincere appreciation. I hope you like it. It's not my birthday yet, but I'm pretty sure your kind words made it :)
PS: Have you guys read and reviewed EO9s "Fighting Fate"? You should.
PPS: Guess what? I ddn't hate this chapter!
PPS: I've just thought of a cool name for a potential sequel for this (if there is one, at this moment there probably won't be, and to be honest I'm not sure how i'm ending FF yet...) "History's Hero" What do you think? It goes with my slight of obsession of alliterative titles ;)