Chapter Seven
Harry could feel a great sense of doom settle over him as he faced Imogen and Roger that morning - both had been delighted to learn they'd managed to persuade him to socialise for the weekend.
They hadn't been quite so delighted to learn that Tom Riddle would be joining them, immediately falling into a state of nervousness, though not quite as displeased as Harry would have on some part liked.
It was more than clear that despite their fear of the Slytherin Heir, they also held him in very high esteem.
It took far too little time for the young Dark Lord to sweep into their corner of the world, a charming smile flashing immediately onto his face as he greeted them all.
"Hi, I'm Tom - Tom Riddle, you must be Imogen and Roger? Pleasure to meet you."
"Pleasure," Imogen whispered, looking a bit star struck.
He didn't think the Slytherin Heir had ever held more than a few words with them before. Harry's jaw clenched as Tom dropped into the seat next to him, offering him a slightly less blinding smile, eyes glittering at him tauntingly, challengingly, before he turned back to Harry's friends, his expression turning flawlessly contrite.
"I know this must be a little strange for you, but I wanted to apologise in person for the appalling conduct shown by my fellow Slytherins."
"That's okay," Roger said, looking slightly shocked at the apology. Riddle held up a hand.
"No, it's not, it was unforgivable. I can guarantee that it won't happen again."
Harry noticed the other didn't say that he would guarantee it, but both Roger and Imogen seemed noticeably relieved that they weren't going to be dealt Slytherin retribution for fighting back. Harry could feel his mood already beginning to sour.
"Will you then?" he questioned innocently. Riddle's head snapped to him.
"Excuse me?"
You said you can guarantee it, will you?"
"Well, I don't claim to control the actions of everyone around me so I can hardly guarantee it, but I'll certainly do my best…why? Do you perhaps not trust my words, darling?"
Harry sincerely wished he'd stop using those names in public. Or private, for that matter.
"Don't take it so personally," he replied, forcing his tone to be casual, good-natured on the surface. "No one ever trusts the words of a Slytherin. And I'm not your darling."
"I'll bear that in mind whenever you speak to me, cupcake."
"Don't call me cupcake either," he hissed, flushing. Tom smirked at him, his expression inoffensive to anyone who couldn't see the taunt in his eyes.
"Okay, pet."
Harry literally felt pained, gritting his teeth.
He had the horrible feeling that Tom was just going to keep upping the ludicrous nature and awfulness of his 'endearments' every time Harry rejected them, defied them, refused.
Heavens forbid he tried 'snookums' or 'pookie' or some other the terrible names Aunt Petunia could come up with next. He shuddered at the thought.
"Darling's fine," he muttered, grudgingly.
"You sure, baby? I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable," Riddle questioned, with a note of concern Harry just knew was utterly fake.
Roger made a slightly shocked noise in the back of his throat.
Baby - reference to being young, inexperienced, a jab at how new he was to this game and how much he was losing. His teeth gritted even further.
"Why would I be uncomfortable with you addressing me as if I was your lover? It fits your stalkerish personality so perfectly!" he smiled sweetly.
Riddle's eyes narrowed to slits, and Harry mentally did a victory dance.
"The interesting part," the Slytherin Heir murmured, after a moment, his expression clearing to only a sly smile. "Is that you're letting me call you a lover's endearments, Harrison. Is there something you haven't told me?"
Harry gaped, furious; Riddle knew perfectly well he was only allowing the names because the only way to get the other to stop was to submit, which he would never do!
"I'm not the stalker in this relationship."
"Oh, so we have a relationship now? Steady on, darling."
Darling. He'd reverted back instead of escalating further, point to Harry, even if he did so in the thick of insinuations. Tom didn't give him the opportunity to respond, instead turning and smoothly beginning a completely different, friendly, conversation with Imogen and Roger.
Harry blinked.
All in all, it was a terrible day.
Imogen Pierce looked between the two of them, somewhat uncertain.
It was more than clear to her that whatever was between Riddle and Harrison - she couldn't believe it was nothing, not anymore at least - was escalating rapidly, and she couldn't help but be concerned for the outcome. No one lasted very long playing against Tom Riddle, especially not when he focussed his attentions so specifically on you.
Still, it was actually somewhat amusing, if you removed the no doubt disastrous consequences out of the equation.
She personally thought Riddle's use of endearments was rather funny because it was so strange for the rather remote Slytherin prefect to be saying them. It was so obvious that he was doing it just because they annoyed Harrison so visibly, and she suspected Harry knew Riddle was baiting him too, for whatever reason.
It was, all in all, an odd arrangement as she was almost certain that despite whatever history or connection they appeared to have, they weren't friends.
The tension between was too high, an anticipatory, hungry type of tension. It wasn't just on Riddle's side either, what ever their new friend tried to insist. Harry was as intent on 'winning' or whatever, she wasn't entirely sure what they were playing for or all the rules, but she could feel obsession brewing on either side.
She didn't know if they themselves had realised it yet, but they were too evenly matched right now. Harrison acted like prey, but true prey would immediately recognise Riddle as predator and either roll over or flee.
While Harry made motions in that direction in how he'd initially attempted to avoid the other, now when he wasn't or couldn't he rose instead of conceding.
It was like watching two predators turn to cannibalism - not a mere power struggle and display of dominance for the sake of anything else, but because they genuinely sought to turn their opponent into the prey and claim total victory. She shivered slightly.
That wasn't to say she necessarily thought it was a bad thing, or that Riddle was the villain Harry painted him as.
The other boy was charming, unfailingly polite (aside from his psuedo flirtatious manner to Harry, which was just funny because it bewildered Harry so much) and fiercely intelligent. He was brilliant to talk to, a very engaging and pleasant conversationalist.
She certainly would not have minded spending more time with him, regardless of the danger, and honestly didn't understand Harry's issue with the Slytherin Prefect.
Yes, he was dangerous and ruthless and cunning, but in a way that was what made his company so thrilling.
When he focussed on you, the rest of the world fell away and you felt like you were special. It didn't hurt him that he was darkly handsome either, like a model Byronic hero.
All in all, she thought it was actually a surprisingly enjoyable day.
And she told Harry so.
His enmity was ridiculous, Riddle may have been a little cruel, but from what she'd seen to day he could also be kind and courteous, sweet and gentle.
She may have misjudged him.
Harry was practically boiling, fuming, and he couldn't believe he still had another day of this tomorrow. What was even worse was that both Roger and Imogen were insisting that 'Tom' was "alright, really" and that he shouldn't "vilify him so much."
Urgh.
The infuriating thing was that he knew Tom had been playing persona's all day, charming his way in and slashing Harry's back up and support into pieces, converting his friends onto the Riddle-team.
It sickened him.
Was that what would happen to anyone he got even vaguely close to here? Riddle would either frighten them off or convert them into avid supporters, and so they thus unwittingly shoved him as a present for the Slytherin Heir, furthering whatever aim Riddle had…
His jaw clenched.
"I suppose you're feeling real smug with yourself," he spat, in the other's direction.
"Over what?" Riddle questioned mildly, glancing at him with a smile.
"Converting my friends to your little cult."
Tom gave a thoughtful hum in response.
"I'll bear in mind that you'd rather I weren't civil or pleasant to your associates."
Harry's eyes narrowed at the implicit threat - because if Tom wasn't civil or pleasant, he would be destroying people instead, acting every inch the Dark Lord.
"Stay away tomorrow. I won't have you messing with them!"
"You've got quite the hero complex there, don't you sweetheart?"
Harry growled.
"I do not have a hero complex!" he snapped. "I'm just not pure evil!"
"Don't be so naive. There's no such thing as good and evil-"
"-only power and those too weak to seek it?" Harry finished, in a hiss. Riddle stared at him. Harry mentally cursed. He probably shouldn't have said that.
"Now, where did you come across that saying, Harry?" the other murmured.
"Book of stupid quotes."
"Indeed." Tom's eyes fixed on him, searing into his skin, slowly coming to a stop. Harry would have continued walking, but for the hand that shot out, yanking him to a halt.
He sighed.
"You need to stop doing that."
"You need to learn to follow implicit and explicit orders, than I wouldn't have to," Riddle returned, not missing a beat.
"Tomorrow you will be joining my associates."
Harry noticed it wasn't a question or a request this time, and bristled.
"Actually, I don't think I will," he rejected, coolly. Riddle merely smiled at him, pleasantly.
"My mistake, it seemed to be the obvious conclusion if you sought to keep me away from your own friends. I thought you might prefer to deny me the opportunity of 'messing with them' by coming to my turf, but we can continue doing it this way if you so desire. Miss Pierce seemed most pleased to see me, for sure. She could be fun."
Harry's eyes darkened.
"Leave her alone!"
"I will if I can have you instead," Tom smirked.
"Have me?" Harry repeated delicately. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You haven't been told that I play with people yet? I was so certain you had, people seem to have a most the effusive opinions to share on the matter."
Harry's heart was pounding. He couldn't believe Riddle was admitting this so openly, didn't he have this huge thing about keeping up his charming persona?
"Dropped the model student act entirely now have we? I expected you to last longer," he replied, goading, hoping wounding the other's pride would get him to back off on the topic.
Riddle's answering smirk was dripping with danger.
"Such masks are only valuable when people believe them, and you clearly don't. Therefore, to continue the allusion in such a private setting, when to do so no longer benefits me, would be redundant."
"Well, not playing it hardly endears you to me either," Harry returned coldly.
"Perhaps not, but nor did my mask, and so this suits our purposes. Sometimes we must be subtle, other times it is easier to get straight to the point."
"So you're just going to outright threaten me?" Harry demanded. "What are you, a Slytherin or a Gryffindor?"
Tom laughed at him, a melodic laugh that sent shivers skittering up his spine.
"Threat' is such a misleading word, darling, it indicates the possibility that I wouldn't follow through." Riddle was quiet for a moment, appraising him, before continuing to answer his second 'question.' "I am whatever suits me, Harrison, just as you are, and so, more Slytherin than all else. By your lack of refusal, I shall presume to hold your company tomorrow then."
Harry glared, venomously.
It was a consolidation of his worst thoughts; if he didn't 'play' with Riddle, than the other boy would just find some other toy to amuse him, most likely either Roger or Imogen just to spite him. Hatred burned in his veins.
He gave one last ditch attempt, frantically trying to swim through the unfamiliar waters of this game, still trying to seek out what buttons to press.
"You know, if you have to resort to force to get what you want, then you're not as brilliant as rumour claims. By all means, go and find yourself another toy, because it won't be me. You can play to your black heart's content with the knowledge that you didn't get your first choice."
There, for Riddle to play with someone else, would imply he lost. Imogen and Roger would be safe, as would everyone else. Take that!
Riddle's expression was unreadable. Harry assumed he must have done something right, and resisted the urge to hold his breath.
"Do you know how to play chess, Harry?"
"Chess?" he repeated, warily, not sure where this was going. The response appeared random. "I'm not very good."
Riddle smirked at his response, for whatever reason, before verbally pouncing.
"Manipulating different pieces on the board in order to capture the King does not end the game, capturing the King does."
Right. How was it that Riddle seemed to manage to find a way out of everything that seemed airtight? He was bloody slippery! That ruled out being able to get everyone else safe through that means...
"Are you suggesting I'm the King? I'm not certain whether to be flattered or insulted," he replied.
Tom's brow furrowed, and, just for a glorious moment, he seemed thrown by the response, for whatever reason. Maybe he didn't expect it?
"What do you mean?" the Slytherin Heir questioned. "The King is the most important piece on the board."
"Perhaps," Harry replied. "But a King will always be a King. It's the pawns you have to look out for, they have the potential to be anything."
"You view yourself as a renegade pawn instead?" Riddle was grinning now. "An unusual interpretation. Who is your King then?"
Harry could feel the beginnings of a plan forming in his head - finally! - a new strategy to combat the other.
If Riddle viewed 'capturing' him as the ultimate aim of the game, and the King as the most important piece, then if he did prove himself to only be working for another master…say, Dumbledore…the Slytherin heir would back off, furious with his own misjudgement.
Who said people only wore one mask?
He shrugged, lightly, knowing that he had to fake mystery now, make it seem like his 'spying for Dumbledore' or whatever, was what he had initially sought so hard to hide.
"Figure it out," he challenged, offering a smirk.
He walked away, feeling a curious stare boring into his back.
"You'll be joining myself and my associates tomorrow, regardless," Tom stated. "A pawn can still be pinned and taken, and, when it's caught, I'll find out for sure what you are."
"You need to stop using chess analogies," he called back, over his shoulder, for lack of other response to the rather unnerving declaration.
He heard Riddle's laughter ringing in the air behind him.
He definitely did not have to suppress a smile.
A/N: Wow, thank you for all the reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much :)