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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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The sudden glaring brightness of the room startled him out
of his meditative stupor.�
He blinked.�
Dumbledore. He�d dispelled the
spells shielding the windows.

Inwardly tom groaned.� Starting the day
to Dumbledore�s twinkle was never a good thing.�
There was another man behind him.�

A tall dour raven of a wizard was framed in the doorway where he had stopped
dead.�

He was looking at tom as if he were some kind of impossible abomination.�
�Albus... you failed to mention the age of the boy.� He growled low, as all trace of his internal
disorder was smoothly wiped from his face.�
Professor Dumbledore had a slight smile on his face.� �So I did, Severus.� My mistake.� I did not think it particularly
relevant.� Tom is fourteen.��
Tom watched the absence of expression waver on the wizard �Severus�
face as he digested that small fact.
��Now then tom.� How did you sleep?� Dumbledore prompted
him.� He shifted his gaze from the twin
black onyxes which were fixated on a point inches away from his eyes.� The twinkling sky blue gaze pinned him and he
could feel a vaguely uncomfortable
fluttering or shifting in his mind.� Legilimency.�

He struggled and managed to look away but the sensation continued
nonetheless.� It was a horrible feeling
to realise that his mind was lying defenceless in Albus Dumbledore�s
hands.� He determined he would spend all
his time in the foreseeable future compartmentalising and building defences for
his mind.�
�I...don�t believe I slept, Professor� he answered
politely.� �I closed my eyes... but I
could not remember how to do it.��
The sensation in his head stopped and he risked a glance at
the ancient wizard.� Dumbledore looked
troubled.� �Yes... well... I�m sure you
will sleep when your body requires it� he answered, however it seemed to tom
that his mind was on something else.�
�Tom � I would like Professor Snape to carry out several
diagnostic spells upon you.� Normally you
would be treated by the current mediwitch Madame Pomfrey however for the moment
it would be best to keep the news of your arrival to a minimum.� To this end... after Professor Snape has
examined you, you will move to the quarters I have prepared for you.��
Tom maintained a polite neutral mien however inwardly he was
frowning and trying not to think about the matter that was preoccupying
him.�

He had the strangest sensation right now.�

He�d had something like it last night for a while but it had come and
gone.�

Now it was back... but not the same.� It
was like a faint tingling in his head. He wondered whether his other self might
have realised he had been resurrected and be trying to establish contact with him.�
Struggling with skills he hadn�t had to use in four
lifetimes, he firmly buried the awareness of the sensation in the deepest
corner of his mind and ignored it.�
The hook nosed wizard approached him warily as if he were a
hissing cobra and stopped more than two metres away to cast the spells.�
Tom suppressed the observation that the strange feeling
increased when he came nearer and sat placidly while different colours were
projected around him.� He read them
absently.� He was perfectly healthy.� He was incontrovertibly fourteen years
old.� He was virginal.� His magical reserves were... (He blinked)... far greater than they had been before he
had been placed in the diary!� They were
impressive for an adult wizard!� �Interesting!�
He wondered whether his magic registered that he was sixty
six years old, whether it was somehow an effect of being a horcrux or whether
he was in some manner connected to his primary self (and potentially other soul
fragments with individual magical stores)�
The other two wizards seemed quite perturbed by the
result.� He watched with a carefully
curious expression as �professor Snape� ran the diagnostic spell three times
and then exchanged a tight lipped look with Dumbledore.�

Tom considered it might be disingenuous to enquire what the spell was for and
so said nothing.�

No further diagnostics were cast however.�
With a minimum of umming and ahing, he was assisted out of bed and into
the floo.�
The room into which he emerged, spinning and managing to
maintain his balance, was far more opulent than he had expected.� He seemed to be in a large...lounge?� Study?�� It was
certainly smaller than the house common rooms, but far larger than anything a student
would have.
A small suite of brown leather furniture curled around the
large carved stone fireplace he had just stepped out of.�
His mind put the pieces together as he looked around the
room.�

Two desks on opposite sides.� A� tall window over each.� The sun streamed in on both sides.� Each desk was
flanked by large bookshelves that spanned much of the wall.

One stained glass panel over the right desk displayed a roaring lion...while
that over the left desk showed a slithering serpent. There were tapestries
depicting lions, serpents, eagles and badgers... turning and glancing behind he
noted that the fireplace was carved with the emblems of all four houses.�� .

He was in the head boy and girl�s rooms.�
Why would Dumbledore bring him here?!� This was to be his...quarters?� Were there no head boy and girl in this
era?�

Or... perhaps merely no head boy?� The desk on the right side was obviously
occupied.� Books were neatly stacked upon
it.� A writing set... parchments.� That on the left had been cleared.�
Inwardly he smirked.�
Whoever the head boy was, he was almost certainly quite irate at
present.��
Professor Snape stepped out of the floo behind him, his
expression fairly radiating
disapproval at the room.� He stepped away
from tom quickly, keeping his hand on his wand.�

The man was...frightened of him, he
realised.�

He was truly quite concerned that tom might at any second attack, wandless or
not, and what�s more � best him.�
Filing that little piece of information away he stepped
further into the room, walking around the sofa and trailing his fingertips over
its surface.� Leather.� Soft.. cool.. thick.. rich..
He�d been drawn to the diary because of this
precise sensation on his fingers.� It was
very pleasant.��
Beyond the sofa there was a large round ornate rug on the
floor which looked like a complex intertwining mandala of green and red Celtic
knot patterns.� It was thick and plushy
against his bare feet when he stepped into it, closing his eyes and allowing
the sensations to seduce him for a moment.�
The flare and hiss of Dumbledore entering the room caused
him to turn and open his eyes. �
The old man�s face was bright and jovial as ever. That
expression had always infuriated him.�
�Well then... I see that you have recognised where you are to be
placed.�

Another student has...voluntarily relinquished his claim to the head boy suite
� and therefore you will be-��
There was a snort from professor Snape.� �Voluntarily...� Albus... really?!��
Dumbledore ignored the growl and continued unconcerned �-
staying with the current head girl.�

I expect you to make every effort to befriend her Tom. �She is a student, in some ways, after your own
heart.� She is also the most gifted
student this school has seen since your own graduation.�� Her name is Hermione.�

He watched the black eyes of the other man, currently serving as his barometer
for Dumbledore�s smudging of the truth, flicker almost imperceptibly. ��
�I believe she is likely still sleeping; however I�m certain
you will meet her in another hour.� She
will be rising for classes.�� Dumbledore paused

�I confess I am not entirely certain what to do with you for the moment.� I doubt that you would derive much benefit from
classes and it would be best not to provoke too many questions about you from
the students.� I shall think on it.��

�Perhaps you might consider whether there are any areas in which you might like
to undertake research.� If I approve of
them, I may provide you with resources.��
The white bearded old fox smiled magnanimously.
�Your room is up the stairs to the left.� If you would like to make yourself
comfortable... perhaps shower or bathe... a house elf should be bringing along
some suitable clothes for you shortly.��

I do not expect you to remain in pyjamas constantly and... As you will likely
not be leaving these rooms, there is little reason to require you to dress in
uniform.��
Tom caught only the part about not leaving the rooms. A
small fragment of his heart dropped.�
He�d gone from an empty world to a two room prison cell apparently.� Wonderful.�

Still at least he would be able to eat... shower...perhaps eventually he might
sleep.� And he would be trapped in his
little cell with the rather interesting peach scented girl from last night,

..unless Hermione was inexplicably a common name in
the future.� It seemed unlikely however.
That would at least provide entertainment for a while.� He would see what might be done to persuade
Dumbledore to relax his restrictions in time.�
Nodding respectfully to the old goat he started to turn away
to go upstairs.�
�Oh... Tom.� I had
almost forgotten.� If
you would come here for a moment please.��
He froze and turned on the ball of his foot.� He�d actually been expecting that.� Dumbledore always did that.� He would throw out the prospect of leaving or
winning or whatever one happened to be wanting at that moment and then just as
one tried to grasp the offered path, he would add an addendum in the form of
�oh... before you x.� Or
oh... I had almost forgotten.�
Something along those lines and then there would be the barbed hook of
whatever it was one wished to avoid.�

It was one of his more irritating mannerisms.�
Tom maintained a resolutely neutral expression as he padded
closer to the man, looking him right in the beard.�
�I had almost forgotten a certain item of jewellery I wished
to present you with.� If you would...��
Dumbledore drew out a necklace from his pocket.� Tom could practically taste the binding
charms all over it.�

Irritating old bastard.�

It was impossible to detect how many different spells were placed upon the
simple silver chain and carved onyx bead, because they were layered and seemed
to blend, but he was certain that
there was no way he would be getting around allowing the old wizard to put it
on him.�

And of course... it was generally to be expected that any enchanted necklace
one allowed another witch or wizard to fasten upon one�s neck would be unlikely
to be removable by one�s own hand.�

It was a standard with all jewellery enchanted to bind the wearer.��
He bowed his head and allowed
the chain to be fastened around his throat, gritting his teeth.��

He was calming his mind... meditating almost... because to allow his true
emotion to flare at this moment would be...unwise.� He had been capable of wandless magic when
angry before entering the diary.� Now...well... his magic was considerably more
powerful.�

He did not wish to put any ideas in the old man�s head about binding that too.
�There.� Dumbledore pronounced, affixing the necklace with
an air of satisfaction.��
Tom raised his head and glanced up at the pale twinkling
eyes, only once, before starting to turn away again.�
�Tom...� Dumbledore started with a voice that sounded almost
kindly.� He paused and half turned, but
did not look him in the face.�

�I realise that it has perhaps been a while since you last spoke... however I
would like to have a conversation with you.�
I expect you to...find your voice... by the afternoon.��

�We will not talk at great length, do not be concerned... but I think it best
that you return to speaking rather than writing.�� You are not mute.� The diagnostic spells show no damage to your
vocal chords.� You must simply take some
time by yourself to get used to speaking once again.��
Tom swallowed and nodded once, finally, turning away again
and leaving the two wizards behind him as he climbed the stairs up to what was
going to be his room.� �
He heard the floo flare as he placed his hand on the door
handle. It flared silver for a moment and then unlocked.��
The room inside exceeded all expectations of a head boy�s
room.� He wondered whether he had become
head boy in the past and hoped to hell that he had.�
The room was gorgeous.�

It had a vaguely octagonal shape, dominated by two features in particular.�
The first were great floor to ceiling mullioned windows
covering two entire walls of the octagon and crowned with a modest balcony on
one wall.�

The view looked out over the black lake and forbidden forest.� It was spectacular and bathed the entire room
in soft morning light.�
The second dominant feature was the bed.� It was a double. In fact it looked bigger
than a regular double bed. He�d never actually slept in a double bed.�� The largest bed he�d ever been in had been
his single bed in the Slytherin dorms.�

This bed was vast and it lacked a canopy.�
It had short posts carved with serpents which wound around the wooden
headboard also.�
It was...exquisite.�
The bed was laid with forest green silk covers.� He found himself drawn toward it as if pulled
on strings.�

His fingertips traced the waxy smooth corrugations of the carved posts, trailed
down and slid over the covers.�
He sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to convince
himself that he wasn�t actually delighted to be trapped in these rooms.� He was sure that his current awe would pass
shortly.�
His eye drifted around the rest of the room.�

A large polished wood wardrobe which seemed to match the bed... a chest of
drawers... a mirror... a small fireplace... and over on the wall opposite the
balcony, a door.�
Standing quickly he paced over to the door,
investigating.�
He found himself looking ahead at another identical
door.� In between the two was a white
bathroom.

Large was an understatement.�

A long bench with two sinks and an ornate antique silver framed mirror over
each offered space for toiletries (and the appalling proliferation of bottles
and potions and objects he couldn�t identify advertised that...Hermione.. was putting her side to use.)�
Closest to his room there was a large shower with glass
walls.� A panel on the wall inside
presented a row of small silver buttons.�
He frowned at it curiously.��
Beyond the shower in the centre of the room there was a bath
which was easily as large as his bed in the Slytherin dorm.� It could have held four, comfortably.� It was partially sunken into the floor and
again, offered a confusing array of buttons and spigots in one corner.�

On the far side of the bath there was a small partition, behind which there was
a toilet.�
He glanced again at the other door.� Beyond that was Hermione�s room,
obviously.� He crept over to it
cautiously, listening but hearing nothing.�

He was tempted to enter but that would obviously be a bad idea. Instead he
twisted the locking mechanism and turned away, stripping off his pyjamas and
discarding them in the middle of the room.�
He decided upon a shower.�
Fiddling with the buttons he managed to get water of a
tolerable temperature to emerge from a relatively normal looking shower head
and stepped inside.�� He couldn�t
suppress the gasp of pure pleasure at the sensation of the hot water all over
his skin.� It was beyond wonderful.� It surpassed everything experienced thus far.�
He strolled, still dripping from the shower back into his room
and inspected the wardrobe.�

True to Dumbledore�s word, they were now populated with clothing.�

It was all rather garish. But, among the red and purple and blue he managed to
find some black trousers and a white shirt.�
A faint click informed him that Hermione was now in the
bathroom.� Turning he was tempted to
wandlessly unlock the door and stroll in as if unawares.�
No.�

Perhaps another time.�
He imagined he could gain a lot of amusement from her over time if he
was only careful to prevent her from running squealing to Dumbledore or
�harry�.�
Instead, flinging open the doors to his balcony he lowered
himself to sit on the stone in the sunlight, crossing his legs.� The sun was so warm...bright... Everything
was so...much more...here.�
Faintly he heard a bird singing.� It was a balm.�
Closing his eyes he relaxed his mind again, letting himself
slip into that peaceful stasis state that he had spent a significant portion of
his most recent years in.�

He could feel his magic thrumming around him gently... and he could feel all
the other magic too.� The castle was so
bright... but there were so very many dots... blips of further brightness
within it... all around.�
He felt a faint tingle at the back of his mind again but
dismissed it as he allowed his perception to drift and distance itself from
conscious thought.
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The First Horcrux