Chapter 114:
Harry had decided that he need Hermione and Ron's help - especially Hermione's.
If anyone could match Tom in terms of spell work and talent it was her. Even if Hermione wasn't as powerful as Tom, she was just as clever, even if she doubted that.
Just as talented. The power wasn't necessary for this anyway, he needed Hermione to create a spell to send someone back in time, not actually cast it.
Now, he just needed to find a way to tell her/ask her about doing this for him, without Tom being aware of it.
That was the real problem, considering he still couldn't move more than ten metres from the Slytherin Heir, and the Slytherin Heir had no patience for his Gryffindor friends…though he didn't seem to hold Hermione in such contempt.
And then he needed to find a way around the restriction itself in a more permanant manner - which was a problem that he might have to solve himself. Maybe he could get Marvolo to help him with the mark? If he knew how it worked, then surely he could manipulate it?
Though the best thing would be for him to just get rid of the snake entirely, as offensive as Tom might find that. Either that, or he could find something to blackmail Voldemort or Tom with, so that they would remove the mark and/or restriction for him.
Oddly, that would work better with Voldemort than with Tom, because him and Tom already had a bunch of issues and points and concessions they were struggling over, that blackmail had no guarantee of working so well. Blackmailing Voldemort could work however…if he could find out what was at the end of that black marble corridor, for example, he could use that if it wasn't too lethal.
The Dark Lord was obviously interested by it.
Harry sighed, wondering when he'd become this knee deep and used to power plays and blackmail. His eyes scanned the Great Hall as he thought, before fixing on Pansy.
Pansy had said she'd supply him with information…but did that extend to acting as a go between him and his friends? If he scrawled a letter, he could hug her and give it to her that way...to give to Hermione.
Or, he could just send a letter with Hedwig, except it would be easy enough for Tom to work out his intentions and who he was mailing, as well as intercept the letter and he was pretty sure intercepting his mail was something Tom would be controlling enough to do if he thought it would benefit him.
Speaking of mail; a school owl swooped down towards him, dropping a package that narrowly missed his plate.
Harry frowned slightly, not expecting post, and somewhat intrigued as it would have to be from a fellow Hogwarts attender with the owl choice.
He glanced up at Dumbledore, wondering if it was from the Headmaster, though he could scarcely think what the Headmaster would send him that he couldn't have given him the night before.
He opened it, noting the standard packaging, only for his head to tilt as a small device, looking a bit like a bracelet fell out into his hand.
He realised belatedly that he should have checked it for curses first.
Still, nothing happened, and he studied it.
"What's that?" Alphard asked, around a mouthful of pancake. Zevi's eyes widened as he leaned closer.
"Is that-?" Abraxas began, with a sharp look at Tom.
Harry's hand immediately curled tighter on the small band. It thrummed with magic.
"What is it?" he asked.
No one answered him.
He turned to look at Tom, his eyebrows arched. Tom's gaze was fixed on the bracelet with a dangerous gleam.
"Tom?" he prompted, knowing from experience that none of the other's would respond if they thought their lord wouldn't want them to.
The young Dark Lord's gaze cut up to Draco, who paled and promptly shook his head.
"I didn't send it - I swear!" the present day Malfoy said, with a hint of desperation and pleading.
Why would Tom assume Malfoy sent it…remembrall…so was this something to do with memory? He asked again, more impatiently this time, and Tom's gaze turned to him from spearing Draco with the glare equivalent of Basilisk's venom.
The blonde seemed to almost sag in relief when he was released from the stare.
"It's a device that stops your memories from being modified," Tom explained, quietly. "It's called a Munin Band."
"You have one," Harry confirmed, remembering how dismal his attempts at obliviating the other had been. Tom seemed to remember it too, because his lips twitched slightly, before he was serious again.
"Yes."
Harry was silent for a while, studying the band.
"Have you obliviated me again?" he demanded warily, and with a definite edge of danger and menace to his tone that had the other Slytherins, barring Tom, leaning away.
"No," Tom replied, with a mixture of annoyance and amusement.
"Then why are you so seemingly so disturbed that I now have a Munin Band in my possession?" he asked.
"Because I hate limitations," Tom returned with the type of psychotic admittance and honesty only the young Dark Lord seemed capable of using. His feelings of annoyance were also apparently over taking the amusement.
"So you would obliviate me again?" Harry verified furiously.
Tom just stared at him with a 'so what' look in response.
"Right," Harry said decisively, slipping the band onto his wrist. "Thanks to whoever gave me this then."
"Do you not wonder why they gave you it?" Tom questioned, not appearing at all pleased.
"If it benefits me, I don't particularly care as to their motives," Harry shrugged.
"It could be cursed to control you," the other pointed out. "If that someone knew you would be unable to resist using the Munin Band."
"And I dare say having my memories wiped would also be a rather effective way to control me too, and, frankly, is a vulnerability I would rather not have, all things considered," Harry said coolly.
Tom's jaw tightened.
Hermione turned the corridor, her thoughts spinning.
Harry had sent her a letter through none other than Pansy Parkinson earlier that day…and since when had Harry and Pansy been close?
She bit her lip, trying to ignore the becoming familiar feeling and realisation that she didn't know Harry as well as she used to.
They were still close, still best friends, and she knew Harry would do anything for her and Ron, and she would do anything for him…but it wasn't quite the same.
They'd, or rather he'd, changed too much.
She'd got closer to some other Gryffindors though, and had come to the conclusion that as much as she had loved the closeness she'd had with Harry and Ron, it had been somewhat excluding to other members of their house.
She'd found more of a friend with Neville, who often hung out with her and Ron now.
And Ron…it had taken a while to settle into a comfortable pattern with Ron without Harry acting as buffer between them. There had been several confrontations, and realisations without the façade of bickering and the wall of Harry between them…but…things were better now.
She smiled slightly to herself.
Sure, Ron wasn't always the brightest crayon in the box, but he was sweet when he tried, and funny, loyal, brave and kind.
Yes, he could be insensitive and tactless and obtuse, but his heart was in the right place and she'd found that if she actually told him why his actions or words had bothered her, that he did his best to stop so as not to hurt her feelings.
She turned another corridor, only to walk smack into another figure, stumbling.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" she began, before freezing as she noticed who she'd walked into…er, literally.
Oh no. Now she was sorry.
Tom Riddle stared back at her, straightening out his robes.
"Hermione," he greeted, no inflection in his voice.
She couldn't help but note that he'd switched from the "Granger" he'd used last time they talked, when he'd dragged Harry off down a corridor.
"Tom," she replied, with a hint of wariness. "Where's Harry?"
"Quidditch Practise."
She studied him for a moment, before abruptly pulling her bag closer and walking past him with another "excuse me, sorry I walked into you."
"You know," he called after her, lazily, "you never did reply to me. That's rather rude."
She turned, slowly.
"Reply?"
"Lestrange," he clarified.
Right.
That.
Anger surged through again at the thought of the slimy, obsequious prat.
"I don't really agree with torturing people," she said, "as much as he'd deserve it."
"Well, that's a disappointing change of opinion," he drawled. "I suppose I couldn't expect too much strength of character from a women though, and not even that, a girl."
He turned away without another comment.
She blinked, and then the anger sharpened to fury as his words sunk in.
"Excuse me?" she spat, marching after him, and forcibly turning him to face her. "What did you just say? This isn't the 1940s anymore!"
"I hardly see how the date makes that much difference," he said, with a dangerous expression at her having stopped him.
Her eyes narrowed in return, fear currently quelled by rage.
"It makes a difference in that people will - rightfully! - lynch you if you say such sexist things nowadays. Women are just as good as men, and I am just as good as you, and just as capable of holding an opinion and sticking to it," she replied venomously.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he drawled. His ego was so huge it was unbelievable!
"Well, Harry seems to think I'm as good as you," she said, smiling sweetly at him.
She honestly didn't know what made her say it, but she knew it struck gold because his eyes abruptly darkened and his magic simmered before he took more careful control over it.
She suppressed a shudder anxiety at the feel of it, the imminent threat, and didn't back down, meeting his cold gaze defiantly.
"Harry," Tom began, his voice dangerously soft, "also has this habit of being uncommonly kind to people and fighting for the underdog. I'm sure he was simply trying to make you feel better, he does that, though it's sweet that you believed him."
She felt his words stab precisely at doubts she already had, growing for months now, and then, she felt those doubts lash out in her defence to find something of his to wound.
"Is that why he tells you that you're his friend?" she asked, her smile fixed.
He went very still, and her conscience rushed back with waves of hot shame and a thrill of terror. She felt awful. She shouldn't have said that. It was uncalled for. She shouldn't sink to his level…he just made her so angry!
He smiled, that charming, chilling smile and took a step closer to her, practically hemming her in as he so often did with Harry.
"So, you think you're on par with me then, do you?" he murmured. "I suppose dating idiots like Weasley might give you a false impression of your worth, but really, such arrogance is unattractive in someone like you. I'd work on that, no one wants a know it all with attitude problems…and you're no model to compensate that either."
She had never felt so…humiliated and…mad!
Without second guessing or considering the consequences of her actions she reacted.
His head cracked back as she punched him across the face - punched, not some girly slap - and she felt an odd sense of satisfaction to see the red growing on his cheek.
"You know," she said, coolly, rapidly, "putting other people down to make yourself feel higher doesn't actually make you any better. It just makes you a pathetic little bully…and with the way you hate everyone, you must absolutely loathe yourself-"
She had her wand out the same time as he, her heart thudding with adrenaline in her chest. There was no expression on his features now, none at all, and in a way that was even more frightening than any anger he could have shown.
"You're are exceedingly lucky that Harry is fond of you," Riddle spat.
"-Or what? Otherwise you'd hospitalise me?"
"As a matter of fact, yes."
They glared at each other for a moment.
"You should get over yourself," she said, tiredly.
Then she walked away.
"Tom, would you be willing to drop the, er, restrictions for a bit?" Harry asked, as he caught sight of Luna.
Maybe she, with her knowledge of strange things, would know of any significant magical rings? After all, there had to be a reason that Tom was so particularly protective of the ring Horcrux, and he was waiting on Hermione for the spell, and needed to work out how to get rid of the leash, or, at least, how to blackmail either Tom or Voldemort to get rid of the restriction for him….so working out what it was that Voldemort wanted from the black marbled corridor place.
He had no idea where to start on those things.
Therefore, really, looking into the ring was the only productive thing he could currently do, and he was itching to do something. Sitting here doing homework as the clock counted down was driving him insane.
"Why?" the Slytherin Heir asked, not looking up.
"Cause privacy is a nice thing," Harry replied flippantly.
"And I'm obviously in the habit of doing nice things for you, is that it?" Tom questioned, making a small thoughtful humming noise.
"Not really, but this would be a great place to start," he said cheerfully.
"No."
"What do you mean no?" Harry demanded, frustrated, beyond frustrated.
"Well, the general dictionary definition of the word suggests I mean I am giving a negative response to your request, to either refuse, deny or disagree with some aspect of it. Of course, I could also be indicating disbelief, for example 'no! this can't be happening', but to simplify it for you further darling, I mean the first," Tom replied, calmly. "I won't drop the, er, restrictions for a bit. You can talk to your girlfriend another time."
"My girlfriend -?" Harry asked, confused. "What are you on about? I don't have a girlfriend, you make it impossible for me to get a girlfriend because everyone thinks we're gay!"
"I meant the crazy blonde girl you're looking to stalk," Tom said. His eyes sliced upwards for the first time, stormy and conversely unreadable simultaneously. "That's why you want the restriction to drop, isn't it?"
"Luna? Well, yeah, I want to talk to her, note, talk not stalk, but she's not my girlfriend, she's just a friend…who's a girl."
"Then by all means, call her over and talk here," Tom said, with a hint of challenge in his voice.
"This is ridiculous! I've not been more than ten metres away from you in days, aside from Quidditch Practise, and even then, you've tugged me back after forty five minutes!"
"That was kind of the point," Tom deadpanned. "Well, make your point and move on," Harry snapped, tossing his hands up in the air, his irritation at his own lack of control and freedom bubbling to the surface.
For several days now, he'd been patient, patient to a saint-like level, but he was no saint and he had a freaking couple of months to do the impossible and he didn't have the time to be so restricted, nor the disposition for it.
Tom gave no reply to that, turning his attention back to whatever it was he was working on now.
Harry sighed, studying the other, before standing abruptly and walking around the table to sit next to Tom. The other's head tilted with a slight curiosity.
"What's wrong?" Harry demanded, folding his arms, keeping his voice low. "You've been in a foul mood since breakfast. Is it the Munin Band?"
"Now who's trying to flip everything into a mushy talk about feelings," Tom remarked.
Harry scowled, but knew that to back down now would be a failure.
"I'm your friend, I'm allowed to be concerned when you temper turns sour, especially as we both know you have sadistic psychopath tendencies to torture other people to appease said temper," he replied, cautiously.
Tom blinked.
"Concerned I'll snap and attack you while you're incapable of running away?" the other drawled.
"Is that likely?" Harry returned, his eyebrows raising once more. Tom laid his quill down, appraising him in return.
"Why are you suddenly so eager to talk to the blonde?"
"Because I like Luna - and not like that, before you start!" Harry added.
He wasn't going to go into the specifics of why he was researching the ring. If Tom thought he was seeking out what he was planning, then he would go to more efforts to hide it.
"You like your best friends too. Why her?" Tom questioned, insistently, suspiciously.
"Careful, you're starting to sound jealous," Harry stated flatly.
The Slytherin Heir once again said nothing in response, merely shooting him a withering expression.
It was somewhat…unusual, that silence and lack of repartee, or even mocking innuendo, and it drew his attention away from Luna quite effectively.
Yes, he wanted to be productive, but…he couldn't in good conscience leave Tom if he was genuinely upset about something.
"You know," he said, quietly, silently praying that he wasn't getting the complete wrong idea because that would be highly awkward and Tom would never let him live it down. "I'm not going to run the second you give me the opportunity to. I was never really going to."
Tom's eyes flicked to him.
"Is that your theory as to why I'm keeping you locked from walking more than ten metres away from me?" he asked. "Because in all truthfulness, it's more that I just don't trust you enough to leave you to your own devices. You have a reputation for sabotage."
"Yeah, that is my theory actually," Harry said lightly. Tom stared at him.
"You should work on a new theory. Your current one is abysmally incorrect," the other stated. "And even if your theory was correct, you shouldn't make promises we both know you're not going to keep. Everyone leaves eventually."
Harry swallowed.
"If everyone leaves eventually, perhaps you should stop trying to convince me you won't get bored then? Or, you know, plotting, because if everyone leaves you might as well get it over with while doing us both the favour of not becoming Voldemort at the same time."
"You two are very sweet in how you love each other," a voice remarked, out of nowhere.
Harry nearly jumped out of skin, wand in hand almost instantly.
While he and Tom did have an unfortunate habit of getting into this types of uncomfortable, not manly enough conversations, they never had them publicly.
Luna?
The blonde plopped down onto a chair in between them, smiling dreamily.
"Many people would say you need a therapist, which is silly, because you two actually talk about your feelings more than most couples."
"I'm not gay!" Harry snapped, exasperated.
"I don't love anyone, I'm a Psychopath you stupid girl, and I'm certainly not sweet!"
"There's no need for raised voices," Luna said mildly. "And that's a very Freudian angle, Harry Potter. I always thought that you could love someone without wanting to have sexual intercourse with them, in a familial way for example, but maybe I was wrong."
Harry spluttered.
"I know you can love someone without wanting to - merlin, Luna! - I just, don't, okay. We're not in love with each other, we're just friends," he said.
"You've never been just friends," she replied, absently. "Even I can tell that. If you were, there'd be a whole lot of confusion and theories going around on whether or not your friends, like brothers, lovers, or enemies."
"Thank you for that opinion, it was much appreciated," Tom drawled. "Now leave and go hunt down imaginary creatures. For a long time."
"You're not very nice," Luna said, sadly, before brightening. "I can give you a magic umbrella for that. It keeps the rain away."
"I can give you a hole in the head, it keeps you from interrupting private conversations," Tom returned, scathingly. Luna smiled back at the Slytherin Heir, apparently completely unbothered by the threat.
"I'm going to get you both an umbrella," she declared. "You can decorate it together while you discuss your abandonment issues. It'll will be a lovely bonding exercise." She paused. "I think you wanted to talk to me about something Harry?"
He didn't have abandonment issues….
Okay, he would do anything to divert this conversation, and she was right, he did want to talk to her (though how did she know that!)
It was bad enough when it was just them picking through the psychological mess of their dynamic, it really didn't help that everyone else had a bizarre urge to do it too.
"Right, um, do you know anything about magical rings?" he tried, ignoring the sharpening of Tom's attention.
"…Aside from the one Sauron has?"
A/N: I'm not sure about this chapter. I don't didn't write well. ;/ Hope it's not too bad. In my defense, I'm ill.
Hope you guys all had a great Christmas and Happy Ne w Year if I don't update before then! Thanks for the reviews. I'm posting a new poll by the way, please vote on it…
PS: Read and review Namikaze Artemis' "Because Life is Jenga." Simple but awesome. =)