Ello, guv'na! How are ya today? See, I'm not just a fan of Kingdom Hearts, Silent Hill and Harvest Moon, I also LOVE Harry Potter! My first series, really, other than The Babysitter's Club. And I do love TomxHarry, it's so cute, damnit! I think I'm a bit out of character... I mean, Tom's always a sneaky cunning bastard, so the cake part works...
Tom lazily read the thick novel by the warm fire, feeling perfectly content. Nagini curled around him affectionately, her elegant body on the back of the plush armchair and her serpentine head sleepily resting on his shoulder. He wore his dark green sweater beneath the usual attire of his black robes, as it was his favourite during his relaxing evenings. Outside the windows a storm was roaring, the rain streaming aginst the glass panes. He didn't mind. That was why he felt so cozy, reading a fascinating Muggle mystery novel.
If there was anything he preferred from the Muggle world, it was their literature.
He brushed back his dark bangs, his scarlet eyes devouring the words. He didn't hide his appearance when his followers were not in his presence; he felt more relaxed when he didn't have the annoying glamour coating his body. He was Tom Riddle in private; with the groomed dark chocolate hair and the handsome features he prided himself on. He even relaxed his normally rigid conduct, curling in the plush armchair with his legs folding close and his stature slightly slouched. A small bowl of his favourite sweets, rich chocolate centered by caramel, sat on the elegant sidetable, its contents slowly being depleted. The fire was warm and bright, the novel intriguing, and the chocolate divine; this was Tom's bliss.
He was broken out of his little reverie by his faithful serpent stirring, her coils slowly unraveling from her master. "Nagini, what distracts my lovely girl," he whispered in the snake tongue, stroking her regal head.
The snake's eyes flickered amusedly for a moment. Tom treated his elegant ophidian as though she were his daughter; she knew she was spoilt and she loved every moment of it. "I merely sensed a disturbance somewhere. No concern, I shall throttle any who think to disturb Master," she cooed, slipping away.
Tom smiled affectionately as she glided into the shadows; his favourite viper was a wonderful companion. She always mothered him, no matter what had happened to him. It began as he possessed her child, and grew into such a close relationship. He called after her, "Send for me if by chance you require my assistance," to which she gave a hissing laugh as she took her leave.
A few moments later; or so it seemed, for he was deeply entranced by the novel; he sensed the alarm pulsating through the deep bond he shared with the piece of soul inside his snake. He folded the corner of the well-worn novel and set it aside, throwing on the glamour once more. He hurried through the large oaken doors, down the hall, entering the main hall. What he saw from the top of the grandesque staircase was nothing short of disgusting.
The Death Eaters were harming an innocent boy. As Nagini curled around him, sickened and searching for comfort, she hissed that the boy was defenseless. Tom Riddle was no monster. He fought for his side and nothing less. He would never harm an innocent child. "What are you fools doing," he snarled in human tongue.
Lucius smiled up at his lord. "Simply disposing of the filth that stained your front steps." Another well-aimed kick to the young one's cloaked head. "It thought it should get pity from you, my lord, when it begged." The cruel laugh that curled Lucius' lips made Tom cringe in disgust inside.
He glided down the steps, Nagini curled loosely about his neck and shoulders as though she were his loving scarf. His wand lazily flicked, and Lucius was thrown back into the wall. Another wave sent the other three through the window. Tom knelt down to the boy, placing a slender hand on the other's hand. His scarlet eyes widened when the small one jerked away, whimpering. "Hush, child, I will not harm you. You have done nothing wrong."
A large, fearful green eye peeped out from the hood, then hid again. "'M sorry..."
Tom shook his head, amusedly thinking that the harmless child was adorable. "This was not your fault. Why don't we retire to more comforable surroundings, hm?"
The boy took a few moments, then slowly and most likely very painfully nodded. Tom conjured a hovering stretcher and levitated the broken child onto it. He threw a disgusted look at Malfoy, then proceeded upstairs. He levitated the boy onto a comfortable couch, striding to his potion stores. Nagini slithered to the boy. It was as Tom was setting down the healing potions when he realized the boy was replying to her serpentine words of comfort.
The boy spoke parseltongue.
Tom looked up, speaking in the same words, "You understand?"
"More than many," the boy responded in parseltongue, to which Voldemort laughed. "Funny?" he asked in English.
"More than it seems," he replied, being rewarded with a weak chuckle. "Drink, please."
"What are they?"
"To heal your wounds."
"Why? I'm a stanger."
"I do not condone senseless violence. I torture when a stake is on the line, when information is being with-held, when it is feeding our plan." That seemed to have satisfied the young man, for he began to take small sips. "What is your name?"
"Figured we'd get to that eventually." He shuddered as he sipped a blood replenishing potion. "Bloody hell, that is a bit of nasty work."
"I agree. Firewhisky, to wash it down?" Tom stood, walking to the bottles.
"So, obviously you are still in school."
"How so? I could simply have a prefrence."
"Voice. Stature. Choice of drink. A certain boldness," Tom mentioned amusedly as he poured the drinks.
"Hmph. If you knew half of it... well, you are half of it."
"And what half is that?" The tall man sat, smirking.
"..." It was obvious the boy was stalling. His fingers wove together, then unraveled; he fidgeted, not speaking. Then, without warning, the boy slumped to the ground with a sick thud. Tom rushed to his side, worried, seeing the boy shaking violently. He didn't stop the child from taking his pale, slender hand. He let the boy bring his right hand to the left side of his face, rubbing his slim thumb to a scar...
And then it clicked.
Potter's shoulders shook, as a choked sob sounded in the room. "Why... why are you... the only one..."
"What do you mean?" Tom helped Harry onto the couch again. Yes, Harry Potter was his enemy. But after witnessing the beating downstairs, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the child. There was something more going on here.
"You... are the only one I allow to touch me... ever..." Tom stayed silent, waiting for the distraught teenager to continue. He calculated that Potter was almost sixteen, but still a few weeks until his birthday. What could have the boy so distraught that he would go to his enemy? After a few moments of quiet crying, the boy started speaking once more. "I'm sorry... I just... I don't know where to go..."
"Why not Dumbledore?" Tom gently rubbed Harry's cheek, trying to calm him. Nagini slithered down, curling around the boy comfortingly. He flinched, then seeing the snake he calmed a little. "After all, he may have more information than I."
"He wants me to be someone I'm not."
Tom's eyes widened. He never thought, not once, that Dumbledore would force someone to fight. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to make sense of it.
"I'm not some big hero, I don't want to fight, I don't want to be the bloody 'Chosen One'. I want to be happy..." Harry surprised the man by resting his head on Tom's knee. "I'm so tired of it all... of all the fighting... I'm tired of having to go to my uncle's home every summer, where I'm just a freak... I'm tired of being Harry Potter."
Tom blinked, amazed. "And why come to me?"
"Because you'd probably understand. You didn't want to be what everyone expected. And besides... everyone wants me to fight, no matter what I want. They'd look at me as though I were mad if I tried talking about this."
Voldemort pulled the shaking child into his arms. "What do you want?"
"I want to be accepted." This surprised the taller again, but then again, this evening was full of surprises. One minute he was reading his novel, the next comforting Harry-bloody-Potter. "For who I am... I don't want to be beaten anymore, I don't want to be placed on a pedestal, I don't want to be hated, I don't want to be worshipped... I want love..."
"Beaten?" His embrace tightened. "Do you mean my Death Eaters?"
"No, I'm used to worse than what they did."
"How in bloody hell are you used to that, Harry?" Tom pulled off the hood, looking the boy straight in the eyes. "Who did that to you?"
"The muggle side of the family." Harry's emerald eyes darkened. "Dumbledore left me to live with them. They decided... to beat the magic out of me." He was shaking again, and Tom held him closer. "I don't want to go back... I don't know why... but I feel safe now... safer than I have felt in years."
Voldemort, for reasons unknown to him even then, kissed the boy's forehead impulsively. Harry's eyes looked up, not fearful or angry, but full of green comfort. "I will kill the ones who had hurt you," he murmured. Tom knew beatings well, from back in the orphanage. He was treated as a slave there... "I will have Dumbledore killed for what he did to you." He meant it, too. Dumbledore should have known. He should have known! He should have taken Harry away from there! But he didn't. And Tom knew why.
To make Harry malleable. Humble. To bend this raven-haired boy to his own foolish views.
Harry hugged the Dark Lord, still shaking though not as bad as before. "Thank you... Tom, that means so much to me... thank you..."
Tom smiled. He let his glamour fall away; he trusted this child. Simple legilamency told him the boy was honestly speaking, so he had let his guard down. When Harry looked up he gasped, his large Lily-shaped eyes wide and his tear-stained cheeks red from the wild blush. Tom Riddle laughed, amused. He snapped his fingers and his personal house-elf appeared, bowing low. "Welsa, send for a supper for two in the kitchen. One meal had best be large, I mean it. And make sure they know that desert is to be rich and their best."
"Yes, Master Voldy-lord." He smiled as she took her leave. Tom was rather affectionate of how house-elves spoke; it was amusing and entertaining.
"Oh, I-I don't really-"
Tom placed a slender finger on Harry's lips. "No, you are much too light and thin for a growing child your age." He lifted the surprisingly slight boy onto the davenport, sitting beside Harry. Just like Nagini, who was nuzzling Harry's cheek, this boy brought out the fatherly instincts in him. "Harry, I can allow you to stay for a week or two, but you must return soon. Those damned Order of the Dodobirds will be searching for you."
Harry giggled, the smile transforming his face into a positively adorable young man. "Dodobirds?"
"And the head chicken." That transported Harry into a spat of giggles. Tom guessed that the boy had little to laugh about normally, so this laughter was a good thing.
Welsa soon returned with two large trays stacked high with their dinners and a third blanced on her head, containing two generous cuts of a cake he recognized from an American Muggle eating establishment.
It was one of his favourites, called the Mud Slide. It consisted of a rich chocolate cake slathered in thick chocolate frosting(with some in the middle), coffee ice cream, a disc of chocolate stuck in the frozen treat, chocolate syrup drizzled over it all and lots of whipped cream and chocolate chips. A cherry topped this delicious treat, and Harry's eyes were wide with astonishment. Tom smiled at the boy. "Not until you've eaten," he said sternly.
Harry whimpered. "But-"
"No." He whisked Harry to the dining table in his study. He generally ate in here if he were quite busy. He sat Harry in front of the bigger plate, sitting beside the child. "Thank you, Welsa."
The house elf dissapeared as they began their meal. Every so often, Harry would glance at the cake, and Tom smirked. He had finished first and, teasingly, took a bite of his cake. "Tom, don't do that," Harry whined.
"What, this?" He took another slow bite, earning another whine. "Alright, alright."
Soon enough Harry finished, and Tom slid the plate of cake over. Harry dove into it, moaning at the first bite. Tom didn't blame him; when he first tasted the delicacy, he almost positively had a foodgasm. "Merlin, this is heaven!"
Tom laughed, patting the untidy head of raven hair. "We can have this every night."
The look on Harry's face was nothing short of ecstatic.
Chuckling, Tom slowly demolished his own slice. Harry seemed to be struggling to finish the whole slice, so Tom decided to help by stealing a piece. "Mine!" Harry and Tom began a fork-fight over the spoils of war. Voldemort won when he kissed Harry's cheek, effectively getting a large chunk from the slice. Together, the two polished off the slice.
"Harry, there is some above your lip." Surprised, the child tried to lick it off. Tom smiled and licked the chocolate frosting away, earning a heavy blush blooming on those thin cheeks. He lifted Harry into his arms and whisked him off to his bedchambers. He set Harry down in the bathroom, finding some spare bedclothes. "Wear these, Harry," he said distractedly as he changed into his own. He realized that the boy was embarrassed and smiled, turning his back. When he faced the child again, he began laughing, for the boy was positively drowning in his clothes!
He brought him back to the bedroom and tucked him into the large bed, with its black and silver and green satin bedspread. He climbed into the other side of the circular bed, smiling. Harry's eyes were wide in amazement. "This bed is huge!" Tom laughed, turning out the lamplights with a flick of his wand. As he snuggled in the thick satin sheets, Nagini slithered in too, hissing a good night. As he stroked her regal head, he heard the boy speak. "Tom, why am I a freak?"
The older man pulled Harry into his arms, feeling the boy stiffen then relax. "You are not a freak. You are you."
Harry looked up, those simple words obviously having more effect than Tom expected. Sighing contentedly, the boy snuggled close, sniffling a bit as he fell asleep. Tom tried to stay awake to watch the fascinating boy sleep, but he ended up following suit soon enough...
A davenport is the country way of saying couch. Though I think it's damport... but davenport sounds more british/fancy. And supper is right, because in the country, lunch is dinner and dinner is supper. The chocolate cake is, yes, from the Cheesecake Factory. Mmm... I love that cake... And no, I can't finish it either, Harry. Man, now I have a craving! Dx
Reviews, please! I want the payment of five reviews for the next chappy. Yes, I call chapters chappys.