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The First Horcrux	By : magentasouth Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Tom Views: 27246 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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Chapter List
- 17
- 18
With an exhausted huff of a sigh, Tom carefully pushed the
precarious stack of parchment in front of him back slightly on the desk, so
that he could drop his head onto his folded arms.
Finished.� Finally.�

His hand hurt..

No, forget his hand � his mind hurt.� So.� Much.� Stupidity.� It was painful to read it!�� It grated against him to even call it
ignorance.� Ignorance could be elucidated
and thus corrected - Ignorance was at least understandable under some
circumstances.� But then there was sheer
mind-numbing stupidity � Minds like cudgels,
lacking the power to understand or the cunning to cheat.� The work was an exercise in futility for both
writer and reader.
He recalled once again ruefully his discussion...or rather, negotiation... with Dumbledore almost
four weeks ago; on the evening that the man had allowed him to �escape� from
the cell in which he had been held pending attempts to force him to undo the
�harm� he had caused Draco and the mudblood.

...Dumbledore had said that he appreciated that Slytherins
responded better to negotiation than threats or ultimatums and thus he wished
Tom to view their discussion in that frame.�

They had spoken for hours, at a time when he was already mentally and
physically exhausted.� It was therefore
not entirely incomprehensible that he had been astounded and gleeful at how
naive Dumbledore was, to offer him so much of what Tom himself desired at so
negligible a cost.�

For instance, as an opener, Dumbledore had offered him the opportunity to study
the school curriculum � the current
school curriculum � in private, of course;�
toward an informal testing of his OWLs and NEWTs.�

When Tom was suspicious, the old man had voluntarily
given him an oath not to vet, edit or censor the curriculum in any way, and to
do all in his power to ensure that no books or other written material that
reached Tom were magically tampered with to influence his thinking or
behaviour.�

Unfortunately Tom, overjoyed at his luck, had not nailed Dumbledore down quite
as firmly as he should have upon the proviso that the bastard had made �
namely, that in return for this opportunity, he would assist some of the
professors with minor tasks; perhaps correct some of the younger-years�
assignments when the professors were overworked.� He would be provided guidelines for answers,
naturally
To think.. he�d
leapt upon that tiny burden, seeing
how he could work it to his advantage � after all, he was still quite
interested in learning which of his former acquaintances might have offspring
among Hogwarts current students.� And
there remained the possibility that his other self might learn of his new task
and find a way to sneak a coded message into the assignments of his servants�
children and thereby open another channel of communication.
However, it was Tom who
had been naive.� Apparently all of
Hogwarts staff were overworked ALL of the time, since Tom was now working his
fingers to the bone correcting virtually all
of the first and second year assignments in Transfiguration, Ancient Runes,
Arithmancy, Herbology, Charms and a class that had
not even existed in his own time
�� Muggle
Studies!!.� The very idea of having a
class to teach the wizarding world about muggles (and
in such a sycophantic manner!) was offensive to him.�� Although... grudgingly, he would admit that
the Muggles had certainly developed a lot of strange new devices since his own
time and so he was fortunate to be so easily and efficiently educated about
their world;� A world he might eventually
have to hide within, should he ever escape Dumbledore and wish to avoid his
other self.�

That was the only redeeming factor in the pointless slavery though, since he
had had, while in the diary, a very
long time to read all of the advanced texts in the library in the remaining
subjects � and so far, he had discovered little in the textbooks which would
suggest a paradigm shift in those
areas...� Although..in
light of the fact that he was reading fourth year texts and was progressing
quite slowly, it was premature to judge.�
The long and the short of it was that he worked like a house elf and barely had enough time to
do any of his own study or assignments � the implicit threat that �his
�opportunity� might be revoked if he refused work� kept his nose to the
grindstone all day.� And as unchallenging..even boring..as the fourth year curriculum material might be, he did not
wish to lose his access to it, for fear of what he might miss.
As to his hopes for the busywork of correcting assignments -
there was no information to be gained
about the children of his former classmates from the wristbreaking
labour � all of the names on the assignments were magically obscured.� According to Dumbledore this was a standard
procedure for all Hogwarts professors when marking assignments, in order to
minimize intentional or unintentional bias.�
Moreover, all of his papers were checked for �magical tampering� before
they were given over to him � as promised by Dumbledore in his oath � which essentially eliminated the possibility that his other
self could use any magical ciphers within them.
He had weighed the benefit
to be similarly in his own favour with Dumbledore�s next generous offer �
namely that he would receive a Daily Prophet newspaper once a week.� The day would be determined by Dumbledore but
he would receive one each week.� All that he would have to do to be granted
access to ongoing current events was to willingly
and cooperatively engage in a
discussion with Dumbledore about some of the current events mentioned in the
paper.�

This too had seemed of merit.� What more
might he learn about the outside world now from such a discussion with Dumbledore?!� No doubt he would mention other things that
would add context to the events Tom was learning about.
And he had.� For
example last week the wretched old man had spoken at length about the
personalities, achievements and wasted potential of the children of a mudblood
family that had been �brutally massacred� by death eaters during the previous
night.� Simon, the older son of the
family, had graduated Hogwarts three years previously and had eventually
returned to the muggle world after he had been unable to find work of any kind
within the wizarding world.� In his
NEWTs, he had achieved three �outstandings� and in
the remaining subjects all �exceeds expectations�.� Nevertheless, he was deemed unsuitable even
to work as a shop hand or a waiter.� When
he returned to the muggle world, he found himself unqualified for any well
paying employment, as his wizarding qualifications could obviously not be
listed in a muggle curriculum vitae.� A pity.� He had since been living with his parents and
working as a cleaner.�

His brother, younger by one year, who had not
been born with magical ability, was away at muggle university
studying to become an architect.� The
night that Simon and his parents had been murdered, Simon had taken the night
off work.� It seemed he had received a
forged letter from Hogwarts stating that Dumbledore himself hoped to be able to
visit them to speak about a �rare opportunity for their family
.�

Apparently this rare opportunity consisted of being eviscerated and flung about
the street.�

Dumbledore had then mentioned that several of the assignments that Tom had
marked that day had been from the boy�s younger sister; also a very capable
student.� She was now being sent to live
with her muggle aunt in Wales and the woman had chosen to withdraw her from
Hogwarts and enrol her in a muggle school in her own district.� Dumbledore had said that he considered
visiting the girl�s aunt to try to convince her to allow her niece to remain at
Hogwarts; he had even briefly thought about giving her a very light magical
push to do so, unethical as that might be, but had decided that the girl in
question might be safer in Wales at present, as unfair as it was to deny such a
promising young witch an education due to the prejudices of others.
He had then summoned the unnamed paper from the tower that
had been on the desk (thankfully without toppling it) � The girl had received
an E.�

Tom remembered marking that particular assignment.� It was one he had deliberated over on a
couple of quibbly points.� It had almost been an O.
Of course that meant nothing.� There were undoubtedly a few exceptional mudbloods, just as there were a few borderline-retarded
purebloods.� It was the average which spoke of the potential of
one�s blood.� The average mudblood was
inferior in their performance.� He had
observed it while he had attended school.��
They underachieved.� They wilfully
misunderstood, feared and disdained the wizarding world, preferring to return
to muggles!� They
were utterly insipid and weak!
On the balance, of the four newspapers he had so far
received, he would have willingly sacrificed the chance to read any of them if
it meant that he did not have to talk
with Dumbledore about whatever the old man wanted to discuss that day.� He was always left feeling confused and
blindsided...and just a little bit as if he was betraying himself..

He had earlier this week asked whether they could renegotiate their
terms.� Dumbledore had twinkled at him
and promised him a chance to renegotiate in another few weeks.
In the original negotiation, the point which he had expected
Dumbledore to lead with had actually come much later.� By then, Tom had already been lulled by Dumbledore�s
seeming generosity and had been far more amenable to reason than he otherwise
might have been.� .�

Dumbledore had easily obliged him to
release the control over Hermione�s magic that her broken oath had bestowed
upon him.�

He had simply stated that either Tom would rescind his rights to Hermione�s
magic or he would have Tom�s own magic permanently
blocked, to prevent him from harming her.�

However, should he be reasonable and also remove the incomplemunicado
hex he had placed on her, then he would be permitted to use magic freely within
the confines of his room and would even be allowed to use it in the common room
on occasion, in order to demonstrate it as part of training toward NEWTs.
Considering that he had expected
to be forced, one way or another, to free the mudblood; and had rather
anticipated that he would be as summarily besquibbed
as he had been in the cell from this point on (if nothing worse happened to
him) he had almost thanked Dumbledore
for his improbable generosity (and foolishness).�
When the mudblood in question had been brought along the
following night for him to fulfil his agreement, she had not even looked at Tom.� She had smiled tightly at Dumbledore and had
stood passively, seemingly absorbed in watching the fire flicker in the
perpetually lit fireplace while Dumbledore irritated Tom with trite morals,
unnecessary warnings and even a couple of outright threats.� Within two minutes of Tom removing the curse
and formally abdicating the rights gained through Hermione�s broken oath, Dumbledore
had thanked him (Hermione had said nothing at all) and the two had flooed out once again.

Tom had hurried upstairs to test whether Dumbledore had kept his word regarding
the free use of magic within the confines of his bedroom.��

Not that he�d particularly doubted that he would.� When he was so specific in his promises to do
something, Dumbledore would never deceive.�
It was in the grey zones � by manipulating one into accepting linguistic
and cognitive loopholes - that the man had to be watched.� He would deliver exactly what he had said he would deliver � it would merely be
other than one had been led to expect when it arrived.�
In this particular case.. the
hidden flaw was that he had found himself outside
of his room almost all of the time,
since the students� assignments refused to be transported by any means across
the portal into his room � which left him correcting them by hand on the desk
in the head�s common room for hours and
hours on end each day.� It was worse
than a detention!�

...Not that he had received many of those
in his own school days.
When he was finished and could take his own course books up,
he had so much to read and he was so exhausted that he had very little real
motivation to practice spells that were all extremely basic.� Yes.. some were unknown to him � but they tended not to be
particularly useful when they were
new to him � or he already knew several alternatives that served the same
purpose.
And it was so quiet too..� Or.. at least.. when he wasn�t enduring
a visit from Dumbledore it was quiet.�
Unbroken peace..almost like the diary
world.� Hermione no longer occupied the
Head girl�s room.� She had, as Dumbledore
said, chosen to give up that honour
and although he had the impression that the manipulative old bastard had tried
to convince her to reconsider, she was evidently not willing to.� That was fine by Tom.� He really preferred not to have to see her
wretched, scared and yet persistently
insubordinate face again anyway.��

She had been persuaded not to reveal
to others what had been done to her, which was something.�

It would make a difference, Tom thought, if he
actually saw Harry anymore.
He did not see Harry
� and would not be seeing him in the near future, he suspected.� That was one of the points at which the
�negotiation� had hampered.� Dumbledore
had agreed to let Tom see Harry regularly, provided he swore never to attempt
to kill or seriously harm him, or to seek to bring
about those ends through other means.

Impossible.�
Even if he wanted to offer such a promise � which he didn�t - he really didn�t see how it was
even possible for him to swear to
that without immediately invalidating his own oath, since other parts of himself, ignorant of the oath,
were at this moment attempting to bring about Harry�s death one way or another.

Dumbledore had conceded this disappointedly and then offered to allow Tom to
see Harry provided that they were chaperoned and that Tom�s magic was
suppressed.� He offered to allow Tom to continue teaching Harry
defensive magic.�

Oh what a wonderful concession, Tom thought.�
He would be graciously permitted to make Harry stronger by willingly
making himself weaker, and he would not even have the faint prospect of taking
his pleasure with the other boy.

�No, thank you�, he had responded.
He would not be enjoying Draco anymore either, as it
happened.� Dumbledore would only allow
Tom to meet with him if he agreed to
a whole host of different demands that were, individually, quite reasonable,
but taken together essentially meant that he would not be acting in a manner Dumbledore
considered undesirable and would be relating back to the old man via extracted memories
exactly what had transpired.

This was...not as bad... as being
forced to consume some kind of truth potion after all � he would not have to
confess everything asked of him and
he would not have to say what he thought
about anything he shared.� It was less
than might have been summarily demanded of him at this point, he thought.

He still wasn�t going to agree to it.�

Although... it troubled him (just a little) what might happen..
what might already
have happened to Draco now that he was unable to meet with Tom.� He would probably be punished for it.� Tom thought that his other self did not seem,
in Draco�s memories, to be the kind of master to care whether Draco was at
fault or not.
So that essentially left him alone..
with no one at all to see or speak to apart from Dumbledore
who came at least once a day for varying lengths of time � sometimes as short
as a few minutes � other times, when they were to discuss something of
importance or that week�s newspaper, he might remain for several hours.�

It was miserable.�� Tom�s life consisted
of endless work that was both dull and irritating and intermittent unavoidable
discussions with Dumbledore about subjects that inevitably had some kind of
moral component to them or sought to expose some weakness in Tom�s other self.
And it actually got worse
every day because, irony of ironies � after planning to feign insomnia in order
to manipulate his way into Hermione�s bed � he now found himself having genuine
difficulty sleeping.

Frequently he thought he was sleeping
but had merely slipped into his familiar meditative trance.� He woke up more tired than he had been
before.�� It didn�t renew a body like sleep did.�

He hadn�t used it for rest in the
diary �he didn�t need rest.� It was merely a time
filler.� By slipping into that state, he
could shorten the endless unbroken expanse of time in the diary with the illusion
of cycles of wake and sleep periods.
During the first week, Dumbledore had not been much
interested in this, it seemed.� He had tsked and displayed false sympathy when Tom had mentioned
it, but had done nothing, probably thinking it was still all a ploy.�

By the second week he had started to become more concerned as the shadows
lengthened under Tom�s eyes.�� He had
once brought along an older woman who Tom had not recognised but who, he
gathered, was Hogwarts current mediwitch.�

She found no concrete reason for his sleep difficulties and had been extremely
reluctant to try to solve the problem with potions.� At Dumbledore�s gentle encouragement she had
left him with several very weak sleep tonics.�
They had tasted like chalk and done nothing at all.�

By the end of the second week Dumbledore had started to bring a much stronger
sleep potion for him in the evening every second day.� It had caused him to sleep � however, like
most sleep related draughts, it came with a few uncomfortable side effects and
was absolutely not for frequent use.� It
would quickly become addictive and would begin to degrade the imbibers mind
after a while.� Since the beginning of
this week he had been taking the potion nightly as it was rapidly losing its
efficacy.� He knew that he would only
have days before it ceased to have any positive effect at all.� The first time he had taken it last week, he
had achieved eight full hours of sleep; the second time it had been just a
little bit less; but last night, Tom had slept for only four hours before he�d
awoken, uncomfortable and itchy all over from the grindylow
bile that was a component of the brew.

He felt irritable and physically weary.�
Too much work.. too
little rest.� If Hermione knew about
this, she was probably laughing her muddy little head off.� It was like the boy who cried wolf getting
what he deserved.
His thoughts were interrupted by the pop of a house elf
arriving in the room somewhere behind him.��
He didn�t bother to lift his head up from his arms or turn.�� It was perfectly on time, he knew.
It was his dinner.�

That was another of Dumbledore�s points in their little negotiation � and at
least with this one, Tom could find
no especially insidious hidden hook, since the man had promised not to try to
poison or dose him with any manner of potion or charm unknowingly.�

It was important for Tom to be able to trust enough to eat and drink, Dumbledore
had said before he had made the oath.�

Since Tom had previously not been independently summoning the house elves to
bring him food with anything like the
regularity that a normal boy of his body�s physical age would require to remain
healthy � Dumbledore had taken it upon himself to ensure Tom�s future well
being.� A house elf would now visit him
three times a day in the head�s common room and would bring his choice from
whatever was being offered in the great hall for that meal.� Tom was expected to eat at least a minimum healthy portion of it and the
elf would unobtrusively (translation � undetectably) remain to ensure that he did consume that portion and did not
somehow �forget� it.�

Dumbledore would hear if Tom was not
eating well and they would have to discuss
it.
�What is it tonight?� he muttered against his arm
disinterestedly.
The elf quavered slightly.�
�Pleasing to be bringing you sir � the roasted beef
with mashy potatoes, beanses,
carrot and colly flowers.� Or roasted rain deers with spongey balls and sour
cabbage.� Or ham burgers and
chipped potatoes with springing rolls.��
And there is sauces too if sirs is wanting!� And dessert is goings to be five flavour
icing cream or chocolatey crunchy cake or purple wobblies.�
�Tom sighed.
�fine.� The beef and the ice cream� he told it
apathetically.� �And water will be fine.�
There was a click and then a soft tap that he knew was the
sound of the elf first clicking its fingers and summoning the tray with his
dinner and then levitating it gently down onto the table.� The pop that followed was muted in comparison
with the initial entrance pop and this, Tom
knew, was because the elf did not truly leave � it merely simulated leaving for
politeness sake.
After a while he dragged himself up from the desk and over
to the table to eat.�
It tasted wonderful.� Of course.��
Everything at Hogwarts did.� Always had.� But he
was coming to learn that after wanting a thing for such an interminably long
period, it took almost no time at all to begin to take it for granted and cease
to savour it.

Perhaps it was the tiredness.� Perhaps he
would appreciate it more if he were not so bone weary.��

As it was, he left most of the meal and after the elf had discreetly removed it
and left, leaned back on the sofa haphazardly and tried not to slide into the meditative
trance state again.�
Staring vaguely in the direction of the dark windows over
the desk, without any particular sentiment or thought in his head, it was
virtually impossible to resist though.
Thus, he was painfully jarred into awareness at some
indeterminate time later by the rough shaking of a hand on his shoulder.�
Blinking he refocused on the improbable amber brown eyes,
currently wide with worry and set in a pale anxious face as Hermione leaned
down over him, looking for all the world as if she�d found him bleeding out on
the floor.�

�Oh thank god!� she mumbled to herself and stepped a couple of nervous steps
back.��
She wasn�t wearing her uniform, he registered dimly through
the haze of his own rising fury at the fact that she was there at all.� Instead of the familiar robes she had on an
indecently figure hugging pair of coarse denim trousers, what looked like a
pale pink long-sleeved singlet and a white cardigan with half pearl buttons.

It was disgusting!� How dare she betray
him, abandon him and then simply swan back in dressed so provocatively!�
Tom discovered reserves of energy and feeling that he had
not experienced in days.. perhaps
weeks.� He pushed himself up indignantly,
absently straightening his shirt and let loose on the impudent mudblood

�What are you doing here?!� You don�t
sleep here anymore, mudblood, so there�s no longer any excuse for intruding
into these rooms unannounced.� And what possessed you to think I would permit
your dirty fingers upon me!� After recent events...and in light of what
you are, your gall truly knows no
bounds!� Get out!��
The girl took a startled step back, as if she had expected
something quite different and thought he might leap up and bite her next.�
�I... I knocked
before I came in� she sputtered, sounding wrong-footed.� �Professor Dumbledore said it would be
alright to visit you now.� I was...worried
you might have gone to bed but he said that you were in the common room right
now and that it would be-..�

She stopped and seemed to take a breath and collect herself again somewhat
before starting again in a firmer and smoother manner.��

�I�m sorry... for..
for waking
you like that � but I spoke to you several times!� Loudly!� I thought you were ignoring me at first.. your eyes were open!� And then.. then, when you didn�t move at
all, I thought you were-...�
�dead� Tom thought to himself,
morbidly amused.� �She thought me
dead.� I wonder if she was relieved.�
Hermione swallowed and then continued as if she hadn�t just
stumbled.� �I was concerned you might be
injured or enchanted.� There was
obviously something wrong� Another,
slightly different, frown passed over her forehead like a stormcloud.� �I probably shouldn�t have touched you.�
If you had been enchanted, any manner of thing could have happened to
me.�� She pursed
her lips, apparently at her own stupidity and then seemed to dismiss the irritation
forcibly, clearing her face back to a patient firmness
and turning her attention back to Tom.

�As much as it bothers me to say it � and it really...really..bothers
me since you are so...horribly...obnoxious � I have to accept that I.. I.. may owe you an
apology.�
Tom controlled his eyebrows with difficulty as they
attempted to make a break for his hairline.
�Go on� he prompted dryly, already suspecting where this
might be leading.� Although it was
pleasant to see the witch squirm uncomfortably, he would have preferred her to
be screaming under his curses and he certainly
no longer had any interest in what might finally be offered, with the utmost
reluctance and resentment.
The girl�s eyes narrowed minutely for a moment and he could
see her grit her teeth.

�...I...should possibly have tried to speak with you when I woke up to find you
in my bed.�� I should..�
She paused and took a deep breath, letting it out in a soft huff.� �I should have ...reacted...with a bit more
patience and compassion.�� I regret
that...a little bit... now.� I was very surprised to wake and find you
there.��
Her eyes conveyed unmistakeably that �surprised� was now
serving as synonym for �horrified and repulsed��
�When you said you were having difficulty sleeping, I
thought it was just an excuse.� No.. I thought it
was a lie!�� I thought you were just
trying to blackmail me into letting you into my bed.� I thought....I thought you were a conniving
little...� she didn�t finish the description and swallowed uncomfortably� �Anyway...I didn�t consider that you
might actually have a prob-�
�If that is all that is worrying you-� Tom
interrupted harshly� �- then I can
satisfy your conscience and you can remove yourself.� It was
all a ploy and I assure you, I intended to get into more than just your
bed.� Call it temporary insanity - You
are, after all, the only female I have glimpsed in sixty years.� You as much as acknowledged yourself that you
knew that Dumbledore had placed you here as a lure.�� Don�t fret - I have returned to my senses
and see you once more for the repugnant miscarriage of the natural order that
you indisputably are.� Were it possible
for such a filthy creature to have �virtue� � I would not want yours.�
He watched with amusement the paradoxical hurt, the more understandable apoplexy
and the dwindling self restraint churn and war within the witch.� It seemed almost as if Hermione�s hair puffed
up in her anger like a hissing cat bristling.
Reluctantly, he acknowledged to himself that he was entertained.�
Hermione was more entertaining than Dumbledore�s tedious
�discussions� or the endless work.� More
entertaining even than the study he managed to scrape in between both of the
former.� Upsetting her was enormously
enjoyable.� This thought was followed
immediately by the sober counter that Dumbledore would have had a hand in
pushing the mudblood back in here and that allowing himself
to be entertained was the first step toward falling for the old man�s
machinations in this area.��

Besides..� He
had turned to Hermione for assistance when it counted most and she had betrayed
him � she had chosen to stun him
instead of Snape when she had the choice.��

He could have hurt her at any time
and he had chosen not to.� He could have
forced her to do whatever he
wanted...and he hadn�t.�� He had shown
her that he wanted her; had pursued her even though she had dirty blood and
even though she had insulted him..over and over again.��
And then she had betrayed him
when he needed her.� He would not debase
himself so again with mercy toward something so undeserving.� ��
The witch in question had reached a point of calm again, it
appeared.� She smoothed her cardigan
absently and then stepped forward decisively.
�Yes.. I know that part of it was just an attempt at
blackmail. �But even if Professor Dumbledore
hadn�t told me that he was worried for you, I can see that you haven�t been sleeping � you look like death warmed up,
Tom!�� And perhaps I would be able to
convince myself that it was all still an ongoing con if I hadn�t actually
walked in to find you catatonic!!�� What
is wrong with you?� What happened to ��
Tom gritted his teeth and growled in irritation.� He would not discuss his own weakness with this witch.� She should just leave!�� He demanded as such, to absolutely no
effect.� Hermione didn�t even blink.� No.� she advanced.� She stepped closer, bold as brass, and sat
down on the sofa next to him.
�I didn�t pay enough attention that day but I do remember
you said that you had slept well and that you had otherwise been having
difficulties regulating your sleep...words to that effect anyway.� I�m listening now!� Why do you think that
you are-�
�There is no why!� I
am fine. I won�t warn you again � Get out!�
Now!� And don�t return.� I don�t want you here.� Persist and I will hurt you.� And I will make it
clear to Dumbledore when he comes by later that if you return, I will-�
�Professor Dumbledore isn�t coming to see you tonight.� Hermione
interrupted softly but with faintly discernable smugness.�
The implications of this news sunk into Tom�s mind.� Dumbledore would not be checking him.

More importantly, he would not be bringing him the potion!!� However miserably
exhausted he felt today, it would be worse tomorrow.��
�Oh goody.� He muttered
acerbically.� �I shan�t have to listen to
his drivel then.�� Why are you still
here?�
He had a much stronger suspicion as to why the girl was here
now.� Or rather why she
was here now.� So late in the evening.�
With a determined set to her jaw.

The peevish voice of his resentment and the low growl of his wrath were enough
to beat down the more reasonable whisper that what she was probably going to
offer was what he had wanted all along.
The girl paused and seemed to consider her words more
carefully.
�When I met with the Headmaster, he told me that you were
taking a strong sleeping potion.� He said
you were taking it every day.. and that it was starting to fail
already.�� She observed him as if he were
a potions experiment.�� Tom narrowed his
eyes venomously and said nothing.�
�He told me..�� she paused and
chewed indecisively on the corner of her lip before seemingly deciding against
whatever she had been going to say.� �We
talked about a lot of different
things and I came to understand a lot more about... well..
about some things I might have been misunderstanding..
or.. not misunderstanding
exactly, I suppose, but interpreting in the wrong context.�
Tom rolled his eyes and stood up.� He�d had enough of this.� He didn�t want to know what private
information about Tom himself Dumbledore had whispered into the witch�s ear to
persuade her to come here and try to �help� him.��

�If you won�t leave � perhaps you�d like to accompany me upstairs so that I
might more eloquently articulate my current feelings toward you.�
This drew a scowl and a pause before the girl bit out� �I am really trying to-�
Tom turned away from her and started toward the staircase to
his room.
�Wait!�

he paused.� The girl had jumped to her
feet as if to chase after him.��

Had she truly expected eager compliance?�
- For him to just forget how
disappointingly she had behaved?!� Because he was tired?� He wouldn�t!
�You can�t just
ignore the problem and go off to sulk in your room, T-Tom!� I don�t know whether its
the same for wizards or.. or..
reanimated horcruxes.. but I�ve read about the effects of sleep deprivation on a
normal person.� You�ll become irratio-�
even less rational. ��You�ll lose your mind!� The human body needs sleep to survive.� If
you get to the point where you are not sleeping at all anymore then..�
�Hardly your concern� he snapped and started to turn away
again.
�I�ll stay with you.�
I�ll � I�ll let you sleep beside me.� If you need that to-�
He rolled his eyes but did not pause on his way, tossing
back carelessly over his shoulder the advice �Don�t embarrass yourself any further.�
I have already given you my answer.�
You have nothing that I
require.�
�But- but it�s what you wanted!!� You cursed me!� You tried to blackmail me to-�
Tom didn�t bother replying this time as he started up the stairs
up to his room.
�Professor Dumbledore didn�t ask me to stay � if that�s what you�re so twisted up about.� the
girl called after him sounding panicked and more than a little confused at his
dismissal. �Stop being a stubborn ch- idiot��

Tom continued up the stairs disinterestedly.�
Perhaps the twit would follow him into his room where he could access
his magic.�

it would be better if she didn�t though, he
reasoned.� If she did then he would be
very tempted to do something that Dumbledore wouldn�t like.� The old goat would look at Tom in that
disappointed way and then he�d do
something �that he didn�t want to do� to Tom.�

There was no call for that kind of unpleasantness.�� The mudblood should just leave.� If it came down to it, he would just offer Dumbledore
the promise he�d wanted in order to allow him to see Draco.�

He could sleep near Draco.� He was almost
certain of it.� He had almost fallen
asleep with him before.
Perhaps if he tried to imagine
that he was lying next to someone else...
The soft but distinctive crack of a breaking ampoule gave
Tom pause.�

He recognised that sound on a deeper physiological level now.� He knew that this alert attention to such a
tiny cue was only a sign of the beginnings of addiction, but that hardly seemed
relevant.�

The mudblood had a sleeping draught.�

Oh.. it might not be a sleeping draught.� It could be any other potion that was sealed
after brewing in small single dose ampoules in order to restrict access, yet
was readily available to a goody-good Gryffindor.�

It could be another potion, he told
himself as he turned on the ball of his foot and started back down the
stairs.� It might be a sleeping draught though.�
The mudblood might have brought it for him � she had said that she had
visited Dumbledore.
Re-entering the common room, he found that Hermione indeed
held a small ampoule which resembled in size and colour the potion which Dumbledore
had been bringing him nightly.�
She also looked extremely nervous and uncertain.� Her hand, holding the tiny draught up for him
to see, shook slightly and she shifted her weight from foot to foot as if she
was considering bolting now.

�Tom � you.. you know that
this isn�t going to help for lon-�
�Oh do stop talking, Hermione.� We are far past the time when I might have
listened to you.�� Give me that � you should have simply handed it over when
you first arrived � and then,�
for the last time, get
out!�
The girl swallowed and pulled herself
back up to a semblance of confidence again, tightening her grip on the fragile
little ampoule in a way that made Tom�s breath catch.� She wouldn�t crush it, simply to be vindictive, surely?!
�I am sure that someone as clever as you think you are,
Tom,� has already realised that you�re
becoming addicted to this� she gestured with the hand that held the small phial
and Tom barely managed to stop himself from reaching out a hand anxiously.�

�And you�re taking it every day, Dumbledore
said.� Are you mad?!� This isn�t a solution
� this is only making things worse!�� She
tilted her hand as if to spill the tiny mouthful of bitter fluid and at this, Tom did have to jump forward,
hands out to catch anything that might fall.
�Don�t!!�� Don�t spill
it!�� He gritted his teeth and forced the
word out.� �Please!� Just..just give it
to me.�
The mudblood�s large amber eyes
blinked at him as if she were seeing him for the first time.� She looked surprised and then her expression
softened in a strange way that he couldn�t quite decipher.
And then she swiftly brought the ampoule to her own lips and
tossed the potion back with a quick swallow.
�NO!!!� he heard himself cry and he was already leaping at
the girl, bearing her down hard upon the sofa behind her and snatching the tiny
flask from her limp fingers.�

He sucked at it, probing with his tongue at the tiny hole.� Nothing.� Not a drop.�

Mudblood WHORE!!�

He didn�t toss the ampoule but clasped it in his hand protectively as he
brought the other arm up and then back down, roughly backhanding the stupid
witch.�
She was already too numbed for this to make the impact he
truly wished it to.� Hermione�s head flew
to the side and her half lidded eyes opened slightly wider in mild surprise.
�WHY did you do
that?!� he demanded bitterly.� �Why do
you keep-� He broke off, something inside him
clenching in hurt. �Why do you keep defying me at every turn?!�
The girl blinked slowly, her eyes rolling back slightly as
she did, as if she were struggling to remain awake.� She seemed to have to focus hard to work out
what she wanted to say.

�I�m trying ....to ...help you��
�I told you � I don�t want your help! �If you wanted to help me,
you would have given me the potion instead of wasting it.�� He sat back on
his haunches, tilting his head back and dragging his hands through his hair in
frustration.� �I�m so...so.. tired! ��You have no idea-�
Hermione, whose eyes had slipped closed, opened them a crack
again and peered dazedly up in his general direction.

�So sleep.� She murmured and then her eyes closed for the last time and her
chest began to move in the slower, more regular pattern of potion-sleep.
Tom considered retrieving his quill from the desk and
stabbing her in the eye with it � there was nothing else around here with any
kind of a blade or point to it.��

He was so angry and exhausted!�

This exhaustion was the girl�s only stroke of luck.� He just could not seem to manage to work up
the energy or motivation to even strangle the wretched witch right now.� It occurred to him that he should at the least take advantage of
her.� He had stayed his hand before but
the reasons at the time no longer held now.��

He couldn�t be bothered doing that either.�
He knelt over the unconscious girl and just could not work up the
enthusiasm to do anything but subside onto the couch beside her and close his
eyes.
Hating himself, he gave in to that impulse, placing himself
between the dead weight of the mudblood�s body and
the back of the sofa and wrapping one arm around her waist simply because it
was the most comfortable place to put it.
It felt as if all of his muscles had been twangingly tense for far too long and were now finally
softening.�� He sighed, disgusted at his
own weakness as he pulled Hermione closer, inhaling the faint familiar scent of
peaches coming from her hair.
�This means nothing.� he muttered against her shoulder
before his awareness faded away and, at long last, true sleep took him.

A hand shook him gently.
�Tom� a female voice whispered.�� Tom?�
Wake up.�
He scrunched his face up and turned away, burrowing into the
warm surface in front of his face.�� He
felt the body � he was certain it was a body � stiffen slightly in response to
the movement before it softened again cautiously..
�Tom!� You have to
wake up.� I � I have to go to class
now!� And.. i have bedsores from lying here so long.�
Please wake up!�
Reality kicked in the door with jackboots, stomping all over
Tom�s blissfully untroubled mind.

Hermione.� She
was here.� He was clinging to her like the child that he was not.�� How had this happened?!
That information unrolled willingly from his memory and he
all but groaned.�
Damn.

He had slept.�

It had been wonderful!

No doubt as soon as he showed signs of wakefulness, the wretched creature would
try to take advantage of the power she now thought she held over him.�

There would be smugness.�
With the utmost reluctance, he dragged his face up from what
turned out to be the side of the mudblood�s cardigan
draped bosom.� He blinked, surprised,
registering the arm that he had been using as a pillow � the arm that had been
curled around him in a manner that would be considered fond..even
protective..had
it been any other but himself and this girl.�
He glanced up uncomfortably to find soft amber eyes
scrutinizing him cautiously.�
�What time is it?� he asked, although he could estimate it
from the first words he had heard.� If Hermione
was anxious about class then it had to be Monday morning before 8am.��

It had been Saturday night when he
had fallen asleep.
The answer that Hermione gave, in a quiet,
carefully neutral, voice confirmed as much.
Gingerly, he picked himself up from his position so close to
her, pulling away.� �...You could have
woken me sooner� he muttered, unaccountably embarrassed and feeling the
intolerable sense of debt to the girl.
�You needed the rest� she said simply.� �I woke up at some point yesterday and
slipped away to the bathroom.�� You
seemed to still be sleeping when I returned, but I didn�t want to take the
chance of leaving and having you wake and then turn catatonic again so I
just...stayed.�
Tom felt the vacuum in the air that would typically call for
some kind of gratitude or acknowledgement of appreciation.

He scowled, slouching against the feeling and folded his arms.
�Oh god � what now?!� the girl gasped, equal measures
concerned and exasperated.� �What have I
done now?!�
Startled, Tom glanced up at her and then forced himself to
unfold and roll the tension from his shoulders.�

�nothing.� It�s ..nothing.� I..�

It had to be said.� Or else this feeling
would persist.

�I appreciate your-�
�Oh.� That�s all.� The
girl interrupted, relieved.� �It�s
fine.� You don�t need to thank me � You
look like you�re chewing broken glass when you try, anyway.��

She furrowed her brow then, grimacing slightly.�
�I have no idea how I am going
to explain to Ron that I am moving back here.�
He was so pleased when I moved
back into the dorms and there�s no
way I can tell him the actual reason.�
�You�re not
returning here!!� Tom spluttered without thinking.� �Nothing has changed!� I do....thank....you
- but your continued �help� is not
required!�� I will-�
��Oh don�t be so ridiculous!� Hermione huffed, looking
more put upon than she had since he�d woken.�
�Surely you must see that you need-�
�I DON�T NEED YOU!!� He
snarled just a bit too loudly, making the girl flinch back momentarily.� It couldn�t last.� A second later and the girl had taken a deep,
calming breath and was putting on her �reasonable�
tone of voice.
�Ok.� You don�t need me.�
You could choose instead to slowly lobotomise yourself with dangerous
and ineffective potions.� Or you could
stay awake.� Sleep is for the weak, of
course.� Or..maybe
you could-�
Tom narrowed his eyes, starting to get up.� He had known
the wretched mudblood would use this against him.
She caught his hand.
�I�m sorry!� she hushed out quickly.� �I�m sorry, Tom.� I didn�t mean to.. to � she swallowed and for a fraction of a second she wore
the most helpless and unsure look in her eyes.�
�I�ve grown used to behaving in a certain way around Harry and Ron.� I�ve gotten used to..
nagging them to study...lambasting them into doing or,
more often, not doing things.� Pushing them around, I guess.. in their own interests, though! �Never for any other reason than what was best
for them!�
Tom privately doubted that Hermione had any idea what was
�best� for Harry � or, for that matter, for her beau.� The boy would likely be far happier with a
different witch.�

He did not pull his hand away, however.
�I..know that you�re...angry with me..� Even though I am honestly not entirely sure
why!�� I really do want to help you
though.� Please... let me help you?�
Something in him hissed and yammered at that.� The notion that Hermione might not even realise what she had done.� It was impossible.� She had to have some idea!

He lingered on the edge of the decision.��
He could tell her.�� He could
declare his expectations...his demands, if
the girl truly wanted to make amends..
��I don�t need you.�
He said quietly.� �Perhaps at one time I wanted you.� Fortunately you convinced me
otherwise...�� Don�t worry.� I have other options if I require a warm body
beside me in order to sleep.� You can
leave.� You will be late for class, I
believe you said.�
The girl�s face looked almost stricken as she seemed to be
considering various responses to this.�
Tom took the opportunity to free his hand from hers and move off toward
the stairs to his room.� He would shower
and dress and hopefully Hermione would be gone when he came down to continue
with his marking.

This time, Hermione did not rise or speak up to stop him.
When he returned to the Heads� common room some time later,
feeling a far sight better than he could remember feeling in a long time, he
found she was gone.� It left him with a
strange mix of satisfaction and disappointment.�
He wondered whether she would try to return later and almost convinced
himself that he hoped she wouldn�t.
�

�

Author note.
In case anyone has been wondering..
the version of Tom I tend to imagine when I think of
him in this story can be found here:

http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/7600000/Tom-Riddle-in-HBP-Harry-Potter-7670439-500-667.jpg
Review replies can be found at
http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/18725-review-replies/
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The First Horcrux