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Chapter Nine—Meetings

"I have a meeting with Riddle in two days."

Truthfully, Harry wasn't sure what made him tell Nott that. It wasn't like he really trusted Nott. Or thought he was useful beyond providing information. Part of him was always watching Nott, waiting for him to go back to being the bully he had been for so many years.

But Harry wanted to tell someone. And it wasn't as though Nott had many people he could tell and expose Harry to. Most of the House was as wary of Nott as they were of Harry after what Nott had done to Malfoy. Dumbledore wouldn't listen to him any more than he would the other Slytherins. And Snape probably had a grudge because Nott had decided, for reasons best known to himself, to rescue Harry from the blowback of Snape's wand shattering.

Nott stopped working on his Arithmancy equation across the table in the library, and kept his head bowed for a long moment. Harry smiled a little. Wariness, respect—that was what he liked to see.

He still intended to leave Britain when his seventh year was done, but he was starting to think that he could have a lot of fun first.

"Can I come with you?"

That was the last question Harry had expected Nott to ask. He started at his confusing yearmate. Nott had lifted his head and was watching Harry with wide eyes. They didn't have much emotion in them. Just wideness.

"He wouldn't share anything with me if you were there," Harry said shortly. "And if you think that you're going to steal secrets you can use against me—" He snapped his fingers, and Nott twitched as his hands abruptly sparkled with ice. "Think again, Theo."

Nott closed his eyes for a moment. "I don't want to steal your secrets."

"Then why would you want to come?"

"I've read more about Riddle since we spoke about him the first time. I think he might be dangerous to you."

"Oh, come on, Nott. He's brilliant and published and has a lot more accolades than I'll ever have. And it's not like he's the bloody Dark Lord.'

"And yet, you can do things that he can't. He's willing to offer you an apprenticeship sight unseen. What if he wants to steal your secrets? Wants to bind you up in an apprenticeship contract that would make you his servant?"

Harry paused. Nott's eyes had changed, and more than enough emotion was filling them now, but Harry still a hard time telling what Nott was going on about. Nott was leaning a little forwards, and hadn't glanced down at his hands where a few ice crystals still shone. His fingers tightened and flexed on the table, tightened and flexed, relaxed and released.

"What does it matter to you if he does?" Harry asked softly. "Then you would have your revenge for the way I bullied you on the broom, wouldn't you?"

"You didn't bully me." Nott seemed to be struggling to say something, but finally settled for, "You woke me up."

"That's ridiculous."

"Really? Would someone who only wants revenge be working with Longbottom and Granger?"

Harry had to admit that that part was the most puzzling thing about Nott since their confrontation on the pitch. Nott was acting as though he wanted to do good for other people. And he had bullied Longbottom and Granger, true, but there would have been no reason to help them as part of a long-term revenge plan. He could have focused all his efforts on Harry instead.

"You've accepted information from me," Nott went on. "Trusted that information. If you believe that nothing has changed and I would just try to sabotage you or take revenge on you, why trust that?"

"I know I shouldn't have allowed you to be useful."

"Please don't send me away."

Nott seemed to have realized how needy he sounded, because he flushed a second later, and bowed his head. Harry eyed him. Nott was a little weirder than he had ever thought, stranger than the other bullies. Not that he'd acted different from them then, but he was now.

Harry sighed and tapped his fingers on the table again. Nott was strange, but so far he hadn't turned on Harry. And honestly, Harry was more than confident of his ability to handle anything Nott threw at him.

"You can come with me to the meeting," he said at last. "But if Riddle says you have to leave, you have to leave."

"I can accept that as long as you're the one who tells me that, and he's not trying to command me."

Harry relaxed a little. At least Nott did still have some of the same pride and hadn't changed completely. That meant Harry might still be able to predict and outmaneuver him.

"Agreed."

For some reason, Theo had assumed Wardmaster Riddle would send a Portkey, but Potter said it had been Apparition coordinates. So now they were waiting on the edge of Hogsmeade where the Hogwarts anti-Apparition protections gave out, and Potter was standing with his eyes locked on the moon.

Theo watched him. Potter out here looked entirely different from the victim Theo remembered during six years of school, the victim he had helped to create. Potter was quiet and still, the moonlight making his skin even paler, and highlighting a few scars Theo had never noticed before. But he also looked poised and confident, a wolf who could tackle an enemy.

"It's time," Potter murmured at last, and reached for Theo's arm.

Theo had never liked Side-Along Apparating, but he had accepted that Potter wouldn't want to share Riddle's coordinates with him. Now, he gasped a little as he came out of the smoothest squeeze he had ever felt. Potter looked at him sidelong.

"All right, Nott?"

"Yes, fine," Theo said, peering around at the area ahead of them.

It seemed to be a manor's grounds, flat and scalloped with flowers, filled with glowing pools of moonlight. Theo didn't recognize the exact grounds, though, and saw no sign of a house. Potter strode forwards as if he knew where he was going, so Theo had to follow, although his hand hovered above his wand.

Potter halted abruptly perhaps three dozen meters later, and Theo came alert. Potter looked around, and then uttered a quiet chuckle.

I want to hear him laugh more, Theo thought, setting himself another perhaps impossible goal.

"A test," Potter said, sounding cheerful for some reason. He reached out, and gold sparkled in the air a centimeter from his fingertips. Theo frowned. He couldn't think of any ward that sparkled that color.

Then again, there was a reason wards weren't his specialty.

Potter laughed aloud, and then curled his fingers inwards and appeared to hook them in the air as if he was sliding them through loops in a piece of cloth. He yanked. There was a hissing noise that sounded surprised to Theo, although he didn't know why, and then a pressure in the air he hadn't paid attention to vanished.

"A test to see if I could sense it and dissipate it with my own magic," Potter announced cheerily, and walked on.

Theo followed him, staring around and trying to catch a glimpse of another ward or even movement on the moonlight-streaked grounds. He saw nothing.

Potter is even more powerful than I thought.

There were two more wards before they reached a chair of ashen grey wood standing underneath the arching branches of a black tree. One was a subtle intent ward, a variation of the first, where any intention to dissipate the ward itself would make it attack. The second was supposed to respond to the presence of any being with magic.

Harry recognized them and broke them with growing exhilaration.

At least he takes me seriously. I don't know how long that will last once he meets me, but he respects me enough to give me a difficult path.

But not so difficult that Harry couldn't break through them. That was the thing that made Harry's blood sing through him when he came to a halt in front of the figure seated on the throne and bowed. Nott bowed beside him, although Harry stopped paying attention to him after a few moments.

Wardmaster Riddle was more than compelling enough to hold all his attention.

He was a tall man, who didn't look much older than Harry himself. His eyes were dark and liquid, his skin paler than Harry's. He had carelessly tousled black hair that Harry was nonetheless sure had been carefully styled. And he had a wand of ebony that he toyed with in long fingers.

Harry met his eyes calmly as he straightened. It didn't matter that this stranger had his wand drawn and Harry didn't, even though for years he had tried to avoid that exact situation at Hogwarts. What mattered was that Harry had broken the wardmaster's wards.

He could handle anything Riddle threw at him, just like he could with Nott.

"Greetings, sir," Harry said quietly. He didn't feel self-conscious at seeing Riddle's poise and beauty, even though he knew he should have. Riddle had invited Harry here for his magical power and his skills. If he weren't impressed with those, he would have no trouble sending Harry away. But Harry knew he would be judged fairly. "My name is Harry Potter, and this is my companion, Theodore Nott."

Nott hissed a little as Harry spoke his first name. Harry made sure that his face was turned enough so that Nott couldn't see his grin.

Riddle leaned forwards. His face coming more into the moonlight, which seemed to intensify around him in what was probably a wandless spell-effect, did nothing to lessen Harry's impression of his handsomeness.

"Greetings, Harry Potter. I am impressed with the way that you broke the wards I set in your path when you were walking through the manor grounds. Will you tell me how you did it?'

Nott seemed to flinch. Harry supposed this was probably where the strange boy thought Riddle was going to steal Harry's secrets.

But Harry didn't mind sharing this. Riddle still had a more formidable reputation than he did, and he was the one who had been published and had been offering this apprenticeship. Harry didn't care if other people eventually learned his trick of breaking wards. He would be on his way to creating other, newer tricks by then.

"Yes," he said. "When I sensed the intent ward, I shaped a ward around my thoughts, inside my head. The ward couldn't sense my intent, then, before I broke it. For the ward that was supposed to respond to the presence of beings with magic, I shaped the air around it."

"The air?"

"The atmosphere," Harry said. "Not the physical air."

"Ah, yes, I see," Riddle said, nodding slowly. Harry felt another leap of exhilaration at the thought that Riddle really did and would be able to suggest new techniques for Harry to learn that weren't a complete departure from his own magic. "And that meant you turned its own magic against it? It attacked itself?"

"Yes, sir. You're really good at this."

Riddle threw his head back and laughed like a werewolf howling. One of their Defense professors had had a charm that played the sound. Harry just smiled, while Nott shivered and flinched next to him.

Nott was really weird.

"I should be good at this, should I not?" Riddle asked at last, letting his laughter subside. "Being a wardmaster."

"Yes, sir, of course," Harry said, but he refused to feel embarrassed. Riddle still looked intrigued, and that was good. He still wasn't telling Harry to leave, and that made him an improvement on other professors like Snape.

Although even a flobberworm would be an improvement on Snape.

"Can you tell me why you have not sought an apprenticeship before this?" Riddle asked abruptly. "Surely you must have known what you could do was extraordinary. Surely you would have looked for a mentor?"

This was actually the part Harry had dreaded a lot more than the invitation or the fact that Riddle would probably have tests for him like the wards. He had to tell the truth, and he had to do it without looking like he was pathetic or like he was fishing for compliments.

He met Riddle's eyes and spoke in the simplest, truest voice he could. "No one liked it when I was Sorted Slytherin. All the professors and most of the students thought that I was supposed to go to Gryffindor. My Head of House also hates me. So I studied on my own and came up with my own innovations. Because my roommates bragged and exaggerated their magical strength, I thought what I could do was normal or even weak. I've been studying hard for NEWTS, but with the intention of leaving magical Britain as soon as I could."

He waited, letting his heartbeat slow to fill the silence. Riddle had a thoughtful look on his face, and he also hadn't dismissed Harry out of hand, so Harry hoped that meant he would be able to see to the heart of things without being dismissive.

Potter wants to leave Britain?

Well, of course he did. Theo could admit that it made sense when he thought about it. No one here was his close friend. He had no reason to stay in the way that most people with family and friends did. And he must already know that damn few people in Britain would offer him any understanding or any chance to develop his magic.

But still…

No. No, please don't leave, Theo thought, a thought he had no right to think, let alone speak aloud.

Of course, Potter didn't hear his silent plea, still locked in a silent staring contest with Riddle. And he would have no reason to heed it if he did, given how awful Theo had been to him.

I shall have to be better. Enough to try and persuade him not to leave. Or to try and make sure that I could be invited to go along with him, or visit him.

"I am surprised," Riddle began, and Theo snapped himself back to the present and the incredibly dangerous man they were facing, "that you would admit to being weak enough to be affected by the shunning of others."

Potter bared his teeth. "I thought someone as brilliant as you wouldn't be taken in by that mythos of the Boy-Who-Lived," he murmured, his tone smooth and low and so sarcastic that Theo's breath caught. "I was a child. I grew up in the Muggle world and had no idea that I was a wizard until my eleventh birthday. No, I wasn't all-wise or superior enough not to be hurt. I was a child."

Theo closed his eyes in a slow blink. He would have liked time to discuss what Potter had just admitted with him, but he thought it a risk in front of Riddle, and he kept his hand hovering near his wand, ignoring the chaos of his own thoughts.

Riddle blinked, too, and leaned back in his chair. "I did not know that you grew up with Muggles," he said. "I am brilliant—" a warning undertone to his voice "—and I never believed the children's stories of the Boy-Who-Lived. But I believe the common wisdom was that you had grown up in a sheltered environment with a magical foster family who would have been able to teach you what you needed to know."

"Now you know better," Potter said. "If you believe it would affect your desire to apprentice me—"

"I am smarter than that," Riddle said, and his smile was much more a smile than Potter's baring of teeth, but no less dangerous. "I find myself more intrigued than anything. Why did no one check up on you during your childhood?"

"I don't know," Potter said shortly. Theo wanted to touch his arm, to silently warn him not to show so much emotion, but Potter ignored him completely. "Perhaps I would have received some answers if I'd been Sorted into Gryffindor. The Headmaster intimated as much when he offered to re-Sort me."

"What?" Riddle asked, his eyes widening slightly.

"Yes," Potter said, planting his feet and bracing his shoulders. Theo thought he looked magnificent, and also that he should have acted as if he was anticipating an attack before this—unless he thought that would have insulted Riddle. "When he had me in his office for what he believed was the use of accidental magic against Severus Snape, he offered me the Sorting Hat. It put me back in Slytherin, of course."

"Of course," Riddle echoed, and shook his head a little, his smile widening. "I could have told the old man that would happen. Whatever you might have been six years ago, you are far past that now."

Potter inclined his head and said nothing.

Harry thought so far, the conversation with Riddle had gone relatively well. The man should know what he was getting: someone weak in some ways, damaged in others, but still strong enough to produce wards of an unprecedented level of skill and strong enough to want an apprenticeship with someone brilliant.

Someone who could withstand the challenge.

Harry knew his worth, now, and he didn't intend to accept a lesser offer.

Riddle leaned forwards a little more and studied Harry as if needing to see his face from another angle. Then he said, "I have something rather particular to say to you, Mr. Potter, but it will need to be without the presence of your companion. I trust that is agreeable?"

Harry nodded. He thought of trying to explain that Nott's presence hadn't really been his idea, but then he would probably look weak for letting Nott come along in the first place. He looked at Nott and gestured with his eyes more than his head.

Nott bowed and withdrew. Harry fought to keep his face from puckering in distaste. Yeah, he didn't want to look weak or strange in front of Riddle, but he hated the idea that Nott was bowing to him now. It just made things even weirder.

Maybe the bow was for Riddle.

Riddle tapped his fingers on the arm of the throne-like chair and raised wards around them with that gesture. Harry tilted his head. Interesting. He could tell that the wards were linked to a particular feature of magic and would keep out people without that feature, but not exactly what it was.

Riddle leaned forwards, smiled a little, and said, "I am interested in more than one of the kinds of magic you can wield, Mr. Potter."

Harry felt his eyes widen at the sound of Parseltongue. He wondered if Riddle had wanted to hide from Nott that he spoke it or just that he knew so much about Harry. But he said in the same language, "You've researched me thoroughly, then."

"Perhaps it is otherwise with other wardmasters, but I would never take someone as an apprentice I did not know everything about. I have mastered other branches of magic as well, or have those at my command who have. I hope you understand that I will need to have one of my—associates read your thoughts for signs of hostile intent towards me and mine."

Harry winced at the thought of being subjected to a Legilimens's power, but nodded. "And I trust that you will say I will have wards around me when that happens, to spring traps in my thoughts on him if he tries to read more than he is allowed."

Riddle gave that howling laugh again. Harry was still able to stand in front of it and watch Riddle with eyes that he hoped didn't give much away, although knowing Riddle's reputation, he probably read a lot more than Harry would have hoped he would.

"Indeed. I am excited to have an apprentice that I can learn so much from and about, Mr. Potter. Let us begin discussing the agreement."

When Potter came out of the ward that Riddle had raised around them, he glanced at Theo and gave him a single, distant nod. Theo took that as an invitation to fall in beside Potter as he paced towards the Apparition point.

No wards ambushed them on the way back, Theo couldn't help noticing. Then again, it probably wouldn't have served any purpose. Riddle presumably had the knowledge of Potter that he wanted.

"What did he say?" Theo asked, when they were beyond any reasonable person's earshot and Potter had reached for his arm again.

"I'm sorry, you expect me to divulge something that he asked me to keep secret?"

Theo flushed. "Not that. Just—I didn't know if you had reached an agreement to become his apprentice or not."

"I wouldn't have to tell you."

"You wouldn't have to."

Something, maybe his mild tone or maybe not, made Potter stop and tilt his head at Theo. He nodded after a moment and murmured, "Yes, we reached an agreement. But there are a number of stipulations we need before we'll be able to trust each other, and I won't be able to bring you along for those."

"I understand."

"Do you, now."

"Yes, I do." Theo met Potter's eyes and tried to convey as much calm reassurance as he could. "I think it's great that you'll have this apprenticeship. And the stipulations, because Riddle could be very dangerous if he wanted to."

"You have no idea," Potter murmured with an odd tilt to his lips. "But I trust that everything will work out the way we want it to, or I'll pursue studies on my own and not take up the apprenticeship." He held out his arm.

Theo grabbed on, already thinking, as they Disapparated, of the other ways that he might be useful to Potter in the event that he wanted to leave Britain.

So that is Harry Potter.

Even though no one was there to listen, Tom Riddle—who had been nothing more than a memory in a diary until Ginny Weasley's soul and magic resurrected him—laughed again, for the soul-deep irony of it.

He had come back to life madly determined to do everything he could to gain power and live. He had quickly discovered that his own madness was nothing next to that of his elder counterpart, who had resurrected himself with the Philosopher's Stone a year earlier. But that very insanity was a weakness that meant Tom had put himself firmly in charge in their relationship. Voldemort was on a leash, and Tom had built his power and reputation quietly, secure in the knowledge that Dumbledore would have told no one about his former identity.

He always did like his secrets, that one. And now I don't even have to worry about the prophecy that Voldemort kept obsessing about. Dumbledore has lost Harry Potter.

I will bind him up, to our mutual advantage, and if I cannot hold him on a leash, I will make sure that he is never any danger to me. Why should he attack his loyal master, who shares so much information with him? Why should he not, in fact, fight for him, against a man his loyal master tells him is dangerous and who has damaged Harry himself?

You have lost, Albus, and you have no idea when the war began.