Chapter 24. Why

"I said stop it!" Sparks flew from Tom's now-drawn wand.

Harry could only shake his head in his hysteria.

"I warned you," Tom spat.

He wasn't surprised when red spellfire hit his face.

A burst of red and Harry crumpled to the floor at Tom's feet. Abruptly, blessedly, his horrid, hysterical laughter was snuffed out, but Tom could find no relief. It wasn't enough. Though gone, Harry's laughter rang on mockingly in Tom's ears, carving at his chest with hot knives. He needed more.

A wordless, strangled scream escaped his tight throat and Tom turned, his wand slashing through the air. In its wake, a deep, arcing gash was gouged into the solid stone wall, sending dust and small rocks raining over Harry's prone body. It should've been deafening.

And yet... Harry's laughter...

Tom roared with fury as his wand came slicing down over and over and over.

Crack! Crash! Crunch! Stone sprayed. Dust billowed.

He felt wild; out of control. Whatever reasonable part of him that remained—that knew he was being too loud—seemed distant, drowned in falling stone and ghostly laughter. How dare he? How could he?!

Tink!

His lifeline came in the form of a small pebble bouncing off of Harry's glasses. The small, sharp sound in its unexpectedness seemed to have pierced through the haze clouding his mind.

Tom's hand faltered. What... What was he doing?

Blinking slowly, he took in the damage he'd inflicted.

It was awful. Through the murk of dust, deep gouges littered the wall of the scarcely-used passage, the floor a graveyard of smashed and crumbled stone. Still out cold, Harry lay amongst it all, black robes and hair now gray from dust and rock. It looked as though a great duel had taken place.

"Well fuck," Tom murmured. He would have to fix this. Immediately. It was a miracle no one had shown up yet to investigate.

Listening carefully for any signs of movement, Tom set to work quickly and efficiently restoring the walls, vanishing the rocks, and scattering the particles in the air. He tried not to think of the passed-out teen inches from him as he worked; doing so set his teeth gnashing and threatened to destroy whatever semblance of rationality he'd managed to pull together. It was a difficult thing.

But at last, the passage was restored, which only left...

Tom glowered down at Harry, wand hand itching. Despite the din Tom had caused, Harry had not stirred once, instead laying there, still. As Tom watched his slow breathing, he was filled with a sickening sense of power. The boy was at his mercy like this; Tom could do anything.

But when he slowly and deliberately aimed his wand at his prone form, it was only to whisper a muttered Scourgify.

"—ervate!"

Harry jolted awake with a sharp gasp and bolted upright. Fortunately, whoever had woken him was ready and leaned back hastily to avoid knocking their heads together.

"Harry!"

It was— "Minnie?" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" Where was 'here?' Confusion wrestled with the adrenaline still streaking through his veins.

"I came looking for you, obviously," she said as he frantically scanned his surroundings. She was crouching down beside him in what appeared to be the semi-secret passageway between the Great Hall and the South Wing. "Are you alright?" she asked anxiously.

"Erm, yeah, I'm fine..." What happened? Last he remembered, he was following—Oh no. He twisted around searching. Where was—?

"He's not here."

Harry faltered. "What?"

"Tom," Minnie said. He stopped and turned to her, but when Harry opened his mouth, she cut him off. "I don't know where he is but he's not here. I must've waited for you in the common room for half an hour before I started to get suspicious. Thank Merlin I found you, honestly."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said, but he was distracted. Tom's livid expression had risen unbidden in his mind. "Lucky."

Something must've shown on his face because Minnie frowned and said, rather darkly, "This was him, wasn't it?" It wasn't a question. "He cursed you, didn't he?"

The red light he'd seen before the darkness of unconsciousness flashed behind his eyes, the shade and speed of it familiar now that he thought of it. Familiar and shocking.

"I knew it," she seethed, taking his silence for an answer. "I never should have trusted him. 'Why would I hurt Harry?' he said, 'I don't want to hurt him,' he said. What utter bullshit."

Harry had never seen her look so angry. "Minnie—"

"I should've listened to my gut, I knew there was something off about Riddle! Oh, when I get my hands on him, I'm going to—"

"Minnie!"

She stopped. "Yes?"

"He didn't curse me." That red spellfire was no curse.

Minnie blinked, confused. "Are you sure? I find that hard to believe," she said doubtfully.

"It's true," he insisted. "He just... stunned me I think," Harry said slowly.

"Oh." Minnie looked as surprised as he felt before she scowled again. "Well. Still. He stunned you, Harry, and left you lying here to rot. If I hadn't come looking for you, if I hadn't known about this passage, you could've been left here for hours."

"Yeah, well..." Harry said noncomittally. Now that he was awake, mind no longer clouded with debilitating grief, what he'd done felt very cruel. Guilt twisted his stomach as he recalled Tom's stricken voice. "Why—Why are you laughing at me?"

"'Well' what?" she snapped.

"Well it's lucky you found me," Harry said and Minnie's nostrils flared. "Help me up, will you?" he asked hastily.

"You shouldn't make excuses for him," she said irritably as she stood, but she still stuck out her hands for him.

Harry didn't reply, not quite able to meet her eye as she hauled him to his feet by his covered forearms. Oddly, several bits of stone that must've been hidden in the folds of his robes clattered onto the floor as he brushed off his robes.

"What on earth?" Minnie asked, echoing Harry's own feelings. "Where did these come from?"

"No clue," Harry said, bending over to pick one up. It almost looked like— Oh. The wall.

"Let me see." He handed it over, the guilt in his stomach squirming. She brought the bit of stone up to her face to examine it carefully. "Strange."

"Yeah..."

So Tom had gotten pissed enough to blow up the wall... But not enough to actually hurt him. He really did care... Hot shame dripped down the back of his throat.

"Why did Tom stun you?" Minnie asked suddenly, and Harry looked to see her eyeing him shrewdly. "Just this morning he was singing your praises. What happened?"

Swallowing heavily, Harry spoke in a quiet voice. "A misunderstanding, I think."

Weak. He was weak.

Tom stood frozen in the vast space hidden behind the mirror—the space he and Harry had claimed as their own. Their dueling hall. He'd come intending to conjure and destroy in an area free from suspicion but now that he was here...

He could only see Harry. Harry pinned beneath him right there next to the bit of grey stone floor swirled with white; Harry ducking a curse that left that scorch on the wall right there; Harry grinning fiercely as he turned that smooth bit of floor right there to sand.

The hot knives were back to carving a hole in his chest.

Weak, his mind snarled. Pathetic.

Tom's hand white-knuckled around his wand. He was not weak. With a roar of fury, he turned on his heel. He couldn't stand to be here now. He slipped out from behind the mirror onto the fourth floor with ease, uncaring as his wrathful magic flurried about him, cracking the mirror glass behind him.

How dare Harry laugh? he seethed, sparks flying from his wand as he stalked unseeingly forward; if a second-year Ravenclaw girl squeaked and ducked out of his path, Tom couldn't bring himself to care. Harry should've been thankful for the opportunity to date him; should've cried out yes with enthusiasm. And yet, he had had the nerve to laugh?

Then, slowly, he thought to himself.

Why did he laugh?

No. The trickle of hopeful curiosity at the thought was immediately smothered in his anger. Who cared why? The why of it was inconsequential in the face of his utter disrespect.

His anger carried him up several flights of stairs, the burn in his legs a welcome feeling. It matched the burning in his chest. And oh, how it burned. Never before had he felt anything like this; not even Dumbledore had angered him like this before. He wanted to track Harry down and make him suffer. He wanted to hear him cry. He wanted to destroy. And yet...

Tom let out a sharp, high laugh of his own. What was Harry doing to him?

He stopped in his tracks. He'd reached the seventh floor now, across from that awful tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and his stupid trolls. It reminded him of the mandrake tapestry Harry was so fond of and the fury grew hotter still. He began to pace, itching to free his magic, free the anger crawling under his skin like ants. Itching to destroy.

And then, quite suddenly, a door appeared.

The week seemed to creep along without Tom.

"You're better off, Harry," Augusta tried to assure him. Minnie and Al made noises of agreement, but Harry couldn't find it in him to agree, even as he tried and failed (again) to catch Tom's eye at dinner. All week, whenever he looked at him, the Slytherin's eyes seemed to stare right through Harry as if he were invisible.

"Auggie's right," Al said firmly.

"But—"

"Look, I get that you want to explain yourself," Augusta said, "but if he won't listen, what's the point?"

He could count on three hands the number of times he'd hissed at Tom during classes that they needed to talk. The last time had earned him a powerful Stinging Hex to the knee.

"I just... I owe it to him to try," Harry said miserably.

"Do you though?" Minnie countered.

"Yes!" he exclaimed hotly, and her eyes narrowed. Was she still pissed at Tom?

"Harry," Augusta said quickly, nipping any potential argument in the bud, "Everything Tom has been doing all week suggests he wants to be left alone. You ask me, if you owe anything, it's honoring that wish. Besides," she added, seeing his hurt face, "it could give him the time he needs to process everything."

He hadn't thought of that.

"Don't forget the fact that he's a nosy git," Minnie said spitefully. "Odds are if you leave him alone he'll get curious enough to come to you."

Well, that answered that then. For all Harry had said, she clearly didn't think Tom had shown him mercy by only stunning him.

Harry frowned but chose to let it go. "You have a point," he acquiesced stiffly.

"Of course I do," she sniffed. "Though why you'd want to patch things up with someone who stunned you and left you in an abandoned passageway—"

"You don't know him!" If you asked him, he was lucky to be alive. "He could've done so much worse!"

"Is that supposed to be a good thing?!"

"Yes!" Harry exploded.

This was too much for Minnie, who stood up abruptly. "You're hopeless!" she cried. "Hopeless!"

"Yeah, well, you're—you're—!" he spluttered, too pissed to speak.

"I'm what?" she demanded as she snatched up her bag. "Right?" Harry's eye twitched and he opened his mouth only for her to cut him off. "Don't answer that. We all know I am, Harry. Come find me when you finally figure that out."

With that, she turned on her heel and stalked off.

Harry let out a frustrated groan and ignored the way Augusta and Al were purposefully avoiding his eyes.

Harry, to Tom's immense displeasure, had stopped groveling. No more did he beg Tom to listen to him or shove harried explanations down his throat between classes. No more did he gaze longingly at him during dinners or scrawl long-winded, rambling excuses in his spelled journal for Tom to ignore. Instead, he did little more than nod. Tom's only consolation came in the form of—shockingly—Minerva McGonagall. She, rumor had it, was no longer speaking to Harry.

Harry, who had started wandering the hallways alone in the evenings.

It was a horrible temptation, for in the absence of Harry's groveling, Tom had taken to contemplation, to moments of weakness during which Tom mused as to why Harry had been crying while he laughed, why he'd said "Of course you chose today of all days," why he'd said no.

Except he hadn't said no, had he? Not truly.

So it was a horrible temptation, Harry's evening wanderings. So unfortunate for him that Tom was not one to deny himself.

"Incarcerous."

Tom watched as ropes sprung into existence around Harry's arms and legs, tripping him and sending him crashing face-first onto the stone floor of the fourth-floor corridor with a sharp yelp. Before the Gryffindor could react, he shot off a calm "Expelliarmus" that hit him in the back, sending his wand clattering across the floor.

"Hey! What the—?!" Harry cried and Tom strode forward with purpose as he struggled to crane his head over his shoulder to look at his attacker. His eyes widened comically. "Tom?!"

Tom pointed his wand at him and spoke. "Silencio." Harry opened his mouth but nothing came out. To Tom's delight, his shocked expression warped to one of anger. "Ah. That's better."

With that, he bent over and shoved Harry onto his back. As he straightened and smiled down at him, Harry very slowly and clearly mouthed, "What the fuck?"

Tom laughed. "Have I ever told you you have a way with words, Harry?"

The Gryffindor scowled silently up at him.

"No? A grievous error on my part then. Now come." Tom summoned Harry's wand, lunged forward, and heaved Harry to an upright position before vanishing just the ropes around Harry's legs. He was sure to keep a tight grip on his upper arm. "We have more... grievous errors to discuss."

The mirror hiding their dueling hall was broken. Cracks spiderwebbed up along the glass, shattering the image of Tom forcibly frogmarching him through the corridor. Harry scowled at it—at Tom—until the Slytherin was pulling the mirror open and shoving him roughly through the hidden doorway.

Tripping, he landed hard on his knees, but he smiled even as he cursed the pain. It had worked. Tom was finally going to talk to him. His smile died though at the sound of the door slamming shut. A thrill of nerves danced up his spine.

"Oh get up," Tom said irritably, walking over and yanking at his arm until he clambered to his feet. "You, Harry Evans, have some explaining to do."

At this, Harry glared at him, trying his best to convey an overall sentiment of "And how am I supposed to do that?" without the words themselves.

Seeing this, Tom laughed. "Oh, of course." Without pause, he took out Harry's own wand and muttered the counterspell.

Without missing a beat, Harry yelled, "What the actual fuck, Tom?!"

"Explain yourself," he commanded cooly, ignoring Harry's outburst.

"You kidnapped me!"

Tom let out a long-suffering sigh, rolling his eyes. "Barely. Besides," his eyes darkened, "I think we'd both agree you deserved it." Harry said nothing. "Now," he continued, voice becoming something more kind and cajoling, "I'm giving you an opportunity here, Evans. Don't waste it."

"Fine," Harry spat, fists curling at his sides. "I will say it again. I'm sorry I laughed, Tom, okay? You know I'm sorry. Now let me go."

"Oh I know you regret laughing at me," Tom hissed. "What I want to know is why you did."

"I wasn't laughing at you, Tom!"

His eyes looked crazed. "Then what the fuck were you laughing at?"

Harry flinched at the rough words. "I was—" He swallowed hard. "Your timing, Tom," he said quietly. "I was laughing—well, breaking, really—at your timing."

He didn't seem to have expected that. "What do you mean?" he asked harshly.

"You chose the day of the dead to ask me out, Tom."

"So?" he seethed. "I told you then, Samhain is a day of Magic, a day when—"

"So my parents died on Samhain, you idiot!"

Tom froze, features suddenly blank. He spoke slowly. "I didn't know that." Harry's shoulders had begun to relax when Tom's eyes flashed, suddenly accusing. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

Alarmed, he bristled. "My parents are supposed to have died in July, Tom, I couldn't tell you that! Besides," Bitterness twisted in his gut as he continued, "I think I was a bit too stunned to speak at that point, hm?"

Tom had the decency to glance away at that, but when he looked back, he looked fierce. "You aren't lying?"

"No," Harry said. "I'm not."

Silence fell as Tom's narrowed eyes examined him and Harry wondered what he saw. Did he see the stubborn set of his jaw, the sincerity in his eyes?

After what felt like an age, Tom flicked his wand at him, vanished the rest of the ropes, and tossed Harry's wand at him. "Go."

What? "But—"

"I need to think," Tom snapped. "Get out." Harry faltered and Tom's eyes flashed. "Now."

Harry left.