Chapter 77:
Harry scrambled back away from the Locket as it immediately flipped open, black smoke pouring from it and into the room, like a living shadow.
Tom reached over, yanking him over to him, awkwardly, as a figure formed from the blackness.
It was humanoid, he could see that, and so utterly dark but for the bloody eyes that seared at them from had to have been the Horcrux's face.
He heard Tom inhale sharply, staring at the figure…shadow…before them.
What number Horcrux must something be to look like this? It was awful.
He had this creature around his neck…this was a Tom…he could hardly stand to look at it, and yet, he couldn't look away.
It seemed to study them both for a moment, before speaking, its voice soft, its eyes cold with hatred.
"Have you opened my prison to release me? In which case, hurry brother, or simply to gawp at me like an uneducated mudblood might?" it questioned, tone neutral but infused with an ice that sent chills down Harry's spine.
"Brother?" the question slipped past Harry's lips without thought.
It glanced at him, with the gaze of a serial-killer surgeon, assessing the best way to dissect him, but did not respond.
"Answer his questions as you must mine," Tom ordered, quietly, studying the shadowy form, gradually gaining shape before them.
The Horcrux bowed mockingly, dripping with derision, before speaking in clipped tones.
"We are the same - our souls are related, but we are not twins, for he is whole and in flux, so I call him my brother, as I may call you, if I am to address you," it said.
"You don't like me," Harry noted, tone flat.
"You are inferior," it sneered. Harry arched his brows at that, liking the thing less and less. In what world had Tom thought this was a good idea?
"And yet you do not show intent to harm him," Tom stated, before he could snap back at the creature, searching the Horcrux with the same vicious, relentless intensity with which it studied them. "Why not?"
"Because you would destroy me if I did," it spat. "Your life is not tied to mine, as the other one's is."
Harry swallowed, slightly. He didn't find that to be the most reassuring reason behind his continued existence, nor the most stable.
Tom's expression was unreadable, even as the scarlet eyes glared daggers in his direction.
Meanwhile, Harry was thinking furiously at what it had said; if Tom's life wasn't bound to the Horcruxes (he had a complete soul, after all, they were Voldemort's) than why had he suddenly got so possessive? And why did he care so much that Harry was a Horcrux?
Tom seemed thoughtful too, though Harry would wager his bank account that it was for different reasons. The Horcrux gave them both a disgusted look, before beginning to wander around the room, Harry summoned Hedwig's cage when the thing approached it. It turned to look at him again and Harry smiled at it, coldly.
The Horcrux turned back to Tom, sharply, seemingly unable to stand looking at Harry for more than a few scant seconds.
"His name is Harry," Tom said, watching the Horcrux carefully, something in his gaze.
"I know who he is," the Horcrux said, equally quiet. "I know your story, your tragedy, for it is mine too." Harry's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean tragedy?" he asked, a feeling of forbidding in his gut, wishing he could see more features upon the shadow then just those flaming eyes. It didn't reply.
"Speak," Tom commanded, repeating Harry's own question. "What do you mean tragedy?"
"If you know the answer, I need not tell you, if you don't, then I cannot," it responded, infuriatingly now. Harry expected Tom to demand again, but the Slytherin Heir merely studied his shadow with dark eyes.
"Does that mean you know the answer?" Harry asked him, dreading the response. Tom glanced at him, expression uncharacteristically tender.
"You lie," Tom told the Horcrux, vehement. Bloody eyes glittered, cruelly, in return.
"Perhaps, but perhaps not, you shall not know until the dye has been cast and the tale of the Slytherin Duo has spun its last," it replied, in the exact cheerful, almost sing song voice Tom himself had used with the Order.
Tom's face twisted into a snarl, his wand swishing up, but before the incantation had begun the Horcrux had disappeared back into the Locket with a shriek of sound, and a rattle as the lid slammed shut. It lay on the floor between them, looking innocent. Harry drew in a deep breath, knocked of balance that all this had occured in so small a time.
"Tom-" he began. The other's grip tightened on his arm, wordless, but he continued regardless. "The answer…he was referring to the Remembrall, wasn't he? You opened it -"
"-Leave it, Harry. He's lying, we do that sometimes."
"If he's lying," Harry said stubbornly, "then why are you reacting so-"
"Harry, please."
Harry did fall silent at that, at that word. Tom wouldn't look at him, releasing his arm and striding towards the window, and opening it, staring out onto the streets of London again.
Harry, cautiously, went to stand beside him, watching him warily.
He wanted to continue the conversation, to point out that they could look in the Remembrall one more time, but that 'please' was echoing in his ears - that soft, desperate, unheard of from Tom, word. Tom didn't say that word, ever! He ordered a conversation to end, and remained resolutely unresponsive if Harry carried on regardless.
He searched for a way to fill the silence, to smooth out the lines of tension cutting into the young Dark Lord's jaw and neck.
"Well, I always knew you wouldn't be able to stand yourself," he said finally. "Now you know how the rest of us feel."
Tom didn't smile, but some of that tension did ease, as the other spun to face him.
"What exactly are you trying to insinuate about my personality traits, golden boy?" Tom questioned.
Harry grinned, putting his best efforts into it, and shrugged carelessly, letting Tom think the answers up for himself. Tom rolled his eyes. Harry's grin vanished after a moment.
"Tom," he began, and though nigh unnoticeable, he noticed the tension return to the other in seconds.
"Harry?"
"If the Horcruxes do nothing for you, why did you," he paused, "you know, when you found out I was one…you…" the tension had drained out Tom once more, just as suddenly as it had come, as the other arched a brow at his awkward fumbling for words, though his emotions were indecipherable.
"If you know the answer, I need not tell you," Tom said, appraising him, mirthless, before a small smirk graced his lips,"if you do not…then you are an idiot."
"Bastard," Harry accused mildly.
Tom smiled.
A/N: Well, erm, you would not believe how difficult this chapter was to write…so many ideas…only one scene. Anyway, I hope it turned out okay. Thank you for the reviews. I shall go have a slight life now…;)