[Harry Potter & Tom Riddle]
Dec. 18th, 2010 10:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ansketilTitle: You Know Who?
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this story. The characters belong to J. K. Rowling; I am just playing with them for my own amusement and hopefully those of others.
Rating: PGR
Characters: Hermione Granger, Lord Voldemort, plus the general cast of characters appearing in Deathly Hallows.
Pairing: Hermione/Voldemort (note: when it says Voldemort it means Voldemort, not Tom Riddle).
Summary: What would you do if you woke up with no memory, looking like a monster, stuck in a room with a giant snake? Well, Lord Voldemort is in exactly that situation when magic brings him to the home of Hermione Granger.
Author's Notes: This is the third chapter of my rewrite. A reasonably short chapter, I'm afraid, but jam-packed full of stuff. I really don't want to make it seem like Harry is the bad guy in this chapter, so I hope he comes across as real rather than a git.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One: The Snake Under the Bed
Chapter Two: The Garage
I wonder how long they will leave me here? I have no way of guessing how many hours have passed since Hermione last entered the garage. Nagini is off hunting. No one has brought me anything to eat or drink and, along with the pain of my limbs, my head is now beginning to throb and spin. Still, through all this, I am surprised by how calm my thoughts are. I must surely be in the hands of private citizens, to be imprisoned in a garage, which means – presumably – that no one has informed the authorities of my capture. This could be for several reasons: they want to administer vigilante justice, they want to ransom me, they gain from my simple disappearance, or possibly they are at odds with the wizarding police themselves. My guess is, unfortunately, the first option.
I keep imagining myself in the small room with the wardrobe, trying to force the handle. Lying here in the darkness, all I have are surface thoughts and everything else is a perfect void. I go over, again and again, all that I have been told, all that has been said, hoping to trigger something, to spark some slight recall. But all I have is the present and the last agonising jumble of hours. Whoever this Dark Lord was, my mind does not allow me to touch him.
The door opens and I go cold, wondering if it is Moody come to kill me. Dazzling blue light is shining into my eyes and I blink, trying to make out the silhouettes behind it. Then the door slams shut and I can hear furious whispering. Is that Hermione's voice? But the much-abused hinges creak again. A bespectacled young man about Hermione's age is walking toward me, staring as if hypnotised. His dark hair falls across his forehead and his mouth is stretched to a thin line, his green eyes wide in deep shock. Hermione is behind him.
I say nothing, hoping not to break the spell of silence as the intense young man fixes his gaze on me. Eventually, I try a smile.
A truly vicious kick collides with my ribs, but I refuse to cry out. "That's for my parents!" the boy snarls. Another kick catches me in the chest, even harder than the last, leaving me winded. "That's for Cedric!" The next one catches me where a wrist is bound under the rope and I can't help but scream as the pain erupts again, "That's for Sirius!" He realises where it hurts and kicks me there again, even more violently, rubbing his shoe in afterward. An awful, keening noise fills the air and I distantly realise it is coming from my mouth. "That's for Dumbledore!" He draws breath, panting and again there is searing pain, "That's for Hedwig! And this… this is for me…!" And I know what he's going to do – he's going to stand on my swollen fingers. I brace myself –
"STOP IT!" Once more Hermione is between me and my attacker, "Harry," her voice is gentle, "he doesn't remember…"
But Harry isn't listening; he's doubled over next to me, clutching his forehead and grinding his teeth. "I DON'T CARE!" he bellows suddenly, a wand pointed at me, "HE DESERVES THIS! Cruc–!"
"Expelliarmus!" the boy's wand soars through the air and into Hermione's left hand, while her wand is still pointed at him. "I won't let you, Harry. You're better than him. You don't need to do this. He's defenceless. Besides, you still have the Trace on you, remember? If I hadn't stopped you, the Ministry would have arrested you for casting an Unforgivable!" She looks over at me, "We… we can't punish him for things he doesn't remember doing… It's not right. I won't let you."
"Hermione – stop acting like he's a… a… a fucking house-elf!"
Her voice rises to a hysterical level, "This has nothing to dowith house-elves, Harry James Potter! This man may look like the one who murdered your parents – but he isn't that person!" Maybe the spell didn't make a mistake. The girl is a staunch advocate. Yes, but she was the one who got you into this situation to begin with, wasn't she?
"You're unbelievable…" the boy breathes heavily, staring at Hermione. "You said Mad-Eye, Mr Weasley, and Remus know about this?" He holds his hand out for his wand.
She gives it to him, while nodding wordlessly, and Harry storms out, much like Moody did earlier, leaving me and Hermione alone. She waves her wand at the door, making sure it's magically sealed, and then she turns it on me: "Petrificus Totalis!"
My body goes rigid and my head hits the floor. With a flick of the girl's wand, the ropes disappear. She leans over me, examining my injuries and – thank the powers that be! – administering some more of her wonderful salve. There are so many things I want to ask her. She never told me my name. I asked Nagini but she gave me nothing but a litany of Master… Dark Lord… Beloved… No answers. My eyes follow the movements of that wand, wishing for my own. When the ropes reappear, she lets me move again. "Please," I ask her calmly, "Can you… can you tell me my name?"
She swallows, standing up, rolling her wand between nervous fingers.. "It's… Tom."
Tom? I'm nonplussed. I was expecting something that I would connect with; a clue to my memories. Tom. It could be any man's name – a complete anti-climax. It is achingly disappointing. No trace of familiarity. "Are you sure?" I ask.
"Yes," she says simply, "Your name is Tom Marvolo Riddle."
Is she making this up? Riddle? Is it some sort of joke? "You're not… making fun of me, are you?" I ask. My words full of wary respect.
Hermione frowns, "No. Why, did you expect something else?"
"No… it's just… Riddle. I thought…"
"Oh!" Her expression becomes less guarded and her features soften, "No that is your name." But there's something in her eyes that tells me there's something she's holding back.
But she's the only person I've seen who has been kind to me apart from Nagini and I want to stay on her good side and that means playing along. I'll discover the truth eventually. She's saved my life twice now. "Thank you for telling me," I say quietly, making sure to look directly into her eyes, "and for healing me. I think my spell worked after all."
"Your spell?" she gives that curious frown I begin to recognise as typical.
"The spell which took me to you… I asked it to bring me somewhere safe." I lower my voice, trying to imbue my voice with as much faith as I can. I need her. I need her to believe in my trust.
Her frown deepens, and a flush settles on her cheeks, but she says nothing.
L.V.H.G
Everything is so surreal. Everywhere, people are getting ready for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Harry isn't talking to me and Ron keeps giving me incredulous looks, so Harry must have told him what happened. I suppose the adults must be doing something about Voldemort, since Professor Lupin told me not to go into the garage again. Mrs Weasley keeps giving me and Ginny jobs to do. I think Harry must have talked with Lupin and Moody too because I haven't seen anyone near the garage except Arthur Weasley, who appears to be doing something odd with a chicken coop in the yard, but is definitely watching the garage. Obviously, he's on guard duty, I can see him out the window as Ginny and I make up the beds for Fleur's parents.
"Hermione, dear, could you go and check the wards? Kingsley did it this morning, but we're trying to put a bit of magic into them every few hours just to be sure."
"Sure, Mrs Weasley," It's another perfect summer day, although I transfigure my sneakers into boots just to make sure I don't get mud all over my socks as I trudge out through the field. The Burrow is under the protection of the Fidelius Charm, so we don't really need wards, but it's best to be on the safe side. It's nice to be out of the house, just enjoying the warm breeze, forgetting about Voldemort.
I hear an odd gruff noise from the grass. I look up. Harry and Fred and de-gnoming the garden and squealing brown gnomes are arcing through the air across the fields. One lands quite close to me. The gnome is growling and swearing to itself, clearly very unhappy, when all of a sudden there is a sharp squeak and then nothing.
In fact, all of the gnomes thrown into the field fall silent a moment after their rough landing; normally, I would expect to hear them digging grumpily to get back underground. There is definitely something in the field with me and the gnomes. I have a pretty good idea of what it might be. We couldn't find Nagini at my house, and I think she must have found a way to follow her master here; Voldemort's living Horcrux; the snake that attacked Mr Weasley. "Serpentem revelio," I whisper, swinging my wand round cautiously. It's hard to make out in the bright sunlight, but a long, thin haze of pale blue light swirls across the grass, curving with the creature's undulations. Nagini.
"Immobulus," I say softly, pointing my wand where the faint haze still lingers over the snake, invisible in the long grass. Nothing happens. The poor gnomes continue to be systematically devoured. My blood is pumping in my ears and I stand like a scarecrow, wand out, stock still, the wind blowing my hair into my face. I try the spell again, in case it was a mistake. Nothing. Of course! Voldemort would have been stupid not to cast all manner of protective enchantments on his prized Horcrux. Probably the only reason my first spell worked was because I cast it on the field, not Nagini herself. What am I going to do? If I move, the snake will certainly know I'm here… if I don't move…
The minutes drag by and I worry that I'll have to stay here all day. But as the gnomes keep flying across the fields, swearing and squawking, it seems that they slowly stop being gulped down so quickly. Perhaps she's almost full? Maybe if I just wait a little longer? Then a little brown gnome staggers past me, unmolested, grumbling his way into the ground. I count: 1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8… 9… 10… The gnome is still unhappily getting on with digging. I wait for another gnome, just to be sure. He too, seems to be burrowing into the earth, free of snake attack. Eventually, I allow myself to breathe again and carefully make my way back toward the burrow. All of a sudden, there is a hiss behind me and something smooth and wet brushes past my leg. I scream, breaking into a run, heart racing. But Nagini doesn't follow. I quickly cast a breathless warding hex on the field, making sure Nagini can't get out.
As soon as I make it to the yard, I catch myself jogging toward the garage. I stop. Was I really going to tell Voldemort about the snake? I walk back toward the garden, where Harry and Fred are about half-way through the de-gnoming. The Weasleys must have a real infestation. "Harry, I need talk to you."
Fred winks at Harry. "First Ginny, and now Hermione – real ladies' man I see, Harry!"
I roll my eyes as Harry glares at Fred, before turning the glare on me. "About what?"
"About…" I glance nervously at Fred, whose blue eyes are full of curiosity, "about the you-know-whats."
Harry's eyes widen. "Oh, yeah…" he turns to Fred apologetically, "I'll be back in a sec…"
"Longer than that and I'll tell Ginny the two of you were French kissing!"
We find a quiet place around the back of the Burrow and I tell Harry about my encounter with Nagini. "We can't hurt her with conventional spells. We have to break You-Know-Who's enchantments first and… well, I've never seen any charms that powerful; it was as though my spell was never cast."
He gives me a serious look, "So… you're still in for destroying the Horcruxes?"
"Of course I am! Just because I think that a helpless man shouldn't be tortured for things he can't remember, doesn't mean I don't want to make sure he's defeated!" My eyes prick with moisture and I realise how much his attitude hurt me.
Harry's green eyes flash for a second, but then he turns away, embarrassed. "Yeah, you're… you're right. We should be better than him. It's just… after everyone just put their lives on the line for me… and there he was… I just snapped. It won't happen again… Look, I've got to get back to the gnomes. We'll talk about this later with Ron, alright?"
"Fine..."
L.V.H.G
It's been hours and Nagini has not returned. The absence of any of my captors means, I think, that Hermione Granger has been warned away from me. Although the burns are slowly becoming more bearable, I would be very grateful for more of her miraculous salve. I hope Nagini hasn't been caught… the thought makes me nauseous. It is becoming difficult to see straight. Corners seem to weave around me, my eyes slide in and out of focus of their own volition, and my head will not cease to pound. I swallow compulsively, trying to con my painfully dry throat into thinking of saliva as water. Water… I need water… water… please… I beg any deity or magical entity who might be listening. Please… water… I need water…
BLIP!
Something hits me sharply on the back of the head.
BLIP! BLIP!
Plump droplets strike the floor and I look up. It is raining inside the garage. Actually raining inside the garage! Clean precipitation is falling from the patched, dirty, old ceiling as though it were a gravid sky. I open my mouth as wide as possible, trying to catch the rain with a grateful tongue. For the first time, I feel this unnatural body as my own, as I fling myself backward, delighting in the feel of the heavy beads of water running together across my hairless scalp, trailing down my face and over my chin. If only I were not tied up! I close my eyes, and it seems the most natural thing in the world to let out a wordless hiss of pleasure as the rain sooths my smarting fingers. The more I revel in it, the harder the rain seems to fall, bouncing off the greasy floor, soaking me through. I feel myself like a new creature, my mouth full of the miraculous water. My skin is no longer sweaty from pain, fear and immobilisation; my injuries too, are ameliorated by the cool liquid.
I begin to shiver and the shower eases, as if sensing my discomfort. I lie on my back, staring up at the perfectly ordinary roof. The only evidence for the aberration is my sopping figure and the large puddle stretching out across the floor.
Did I make that happen?
It is the only possible conclusion. Yet… yet… how? Nagini and I had spoken of magic performed without a wand, yet Hermione, Nagini and the boy… Harry… had all behaved as though real magic could not be performed without one. Nagini had been horrified at my handing over my wand to Hermione, while she herself had successfully stopped Harry's attack on me by removing his wand from him. I had not seen anyone perform magic without one.
But wasn't I – Tom Riddle – meant to be a feared wizard lord? Did it not make sense that I might possess abilities beyond what might be considered normal? However uncommon the ability, it is obvious those imprisoning me do not know about it. Otherwise they would surely have taken more precautions in constructing my cage. I stretch my lipless mouth taunt into a tight smile and focus...
~*~
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this story. The characters belong to J. K. Rowling; I am just playing with them for my own amusement and hopefully those of others.
Rating: PGR
Characters: Hermione Granger, Lord Voldemort, plus the general cast of characters appearing in Deathly Hallows.
Pairing: Hermione/Voldemort (note: when it says Voldemort it means Voldemort, not Tom Riddle).
Summary: What would you do if you woke up with no memory, looking like a monster, stuck in a room with a giant snake? Well, Lord Voldemort is in exactly that situation when magic brings him to the home of Hermione Granger.
Author's Notes: This is the third chapter of my rewrite. A reasonably short chapter, I'm afraid, but jam-packed full of stuff. I really don't want to make it seem like Harry is the bad guy in this chapter, so I hope he comes across as real rather than a git.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One: The Snake Under the Bed
Chapter Two: The Garage
Chapter Three: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle
I wonder how long they will leave me here? I have no way of guessing how many hours have passed since Hermione last entered the garage. Nagini is off hunting. No one has brought me anything to eat or drink and, along with the pain of my limbs, my head is now beginning to throb and spin. Still, through all this, I am surprised by how calm my thoughts are. I must surely be in the hands of private citizens, to be imprisoned in a garage, which means – presumably – that no one has informed the authorities of my capture. This could be for several reasons: they want to administer vigilante justice, they want to ransom me, they gain from my simple disappearance, or possibly they are at odds with the wizarding police themselves. My guess is, unfortunately, the first option.
I keep imagining myself in the small room with the wardrobe, trying to force the handle. Lying here in the darkness, all I have are surface thoughts and everything else is a perfect void. I go over, again and again, all that I have been told, all that has been said, hoping to trigger something, to spark some slight recall. But all I have is the present and the last agonising jumble of hours. Whoever this Dark Lord was, my mind does not allow me to touch him.
The door opens and I go cold, wondering if it is Moody come to kill me. Dazzling blue light is shining into my eyes and I blink, trying to make out the silhouettes behind it. Then the door slams shut and I can hear furious whispering. Is that Hermione's voice? But the much-abused hinges creak again. A bespectacled young man about Hermione's age is walking toward me, staring as if hypnotised. His dark hair falls across his forehead and his mouth is stretched to a thin line, his green eyes wide in deep shock. Hermione is behind him.
I say nothing, hoping not to break the spell of silence as the intense young man fixes his gaze on me. Eventually, I try a smile.
A truly vicious kick collides with my ribs, but I refuse to cry out. "That's for my parents!" the boy snarls. Another kick catches me in the chest, even harder than the last, leaving me winded. "That's for Cedric!" The next one catches me where a wrist is bound under the rope and I can't help but scream as the pain erupts again, "That's for Sirius!" He realises where it hurts and kicks me there again, even more violently, rubbing his shoe in afterward. An awful, keening noise fills the air and I distantly realise it is coming from my mouth. "That's for Dumbledore!" He draws breath, panting and again there is searing pain, "That's for Hedwig! And this… this is for me…!" And I know what he's going to do – he's going to stand on my swollen fingers. I brace myself –
"STOP IT!" Once more Hermione is between me and my attacker, "Harry," her voice is gentle, "he doesn't remember…"
But Harry isn't listening; he's doubled over next to me, clutching his forehead and grinding his teeth. "I DON'T CARE!" he bellows suddenly, a wand pointed at me, "HE DESERVES THIS! Cruc–!"
"Expelliarmus!" the boy's wand soars through the air and into Hermione's left hand, while her wand is still pointed at him. "I won't let you, Harry. You're better than him. You don't need to do this. He's defenceless. Besides, you still have the Trace on you, remember? If I hadn't stopped you, the Ministry would have arrested you for casting an Unforgivable!" She looks over at me, "We… we can't punish him for things he doesn't remember doing… It's not right. I won't let you."
"Hermione – stop acting like he's a… a… a fucking house-elf!"
Her voice rises to a hysterical level, "This has nothing to dowith house-elves, Harry James Potter! This man may look like the one who murdered your parents – but he isn't that person!" Maybe the spell didn't make a mistake. The girl is a staunch advocate. Yes, but she was the one who got you into this situation to begin with, wasn't she?
"You're unbelievable…" the boy breathes heavily, staring at Hermione. "You said Mad-Eye, Mr Weasley, and Remus know about this?" He holds his hand out for his wand.
She gives it to him, while nodding wordlessly, and Harry storms out, much like Moody did earlier, leaving me and Hermione alone. She waves her wand at the door, making sure it's magically sealed, and then she turns it on me: "Petrificus Totalis!"
My body goes rigid and my head hits the floor. With a flick of the girl's wand, the ropes disappear. She leans over me, examining my injuries and – thank the powers that be! – administering some more of her wonderful salve. There are so many things I want to ask her. She never told me my name. I asked Nagini but she gave me nothing but a litany of Master… Dark Lord… Beloved… No answers. My eyes follow the movements of that wand, wishing for my own. When the ropes reappear, she lets me move again. "Please," I ask her calmly, "Can you… can you tell me my name?"
She swallows, standing up, rolling her wand between nervous fingers.. "It's… Tom."
Tom? I'm nonplussed. I was expecting something that I would connect with; a clue to my memories. Tom. It could be any man's name – a complete anti-climax. It is achingly disappointing. No trace of familiarity. "Are you sure?" I ask.
"Yes," she says simply, "Your name is Tom Marvolo Riddle."
Is she making this up? Riddle? Is it some sort of joke? "You're not… making fun of me, are you?" I ask. My words full of wary respect.
Hermione frowns, "No. Why, did you expect something else?"
"No… it's just… Riddle. I thought…"
"Oh!" Her expression becomes less guarded and her features soften, "No that is your name." But there's something in her eyes that tells me there's something she's holding back.
But she's the only person I've seen who has been kind to me apart from Nagini and I want to stay on her good side and that means playing along. I'll discover the truth eventually. She's saved my life twice now. "Thank you for telling me," I say quietly, making sure to look directly into her eyes, "and for healing me. I think my spell worked after all."
"Your spell?" she gives that curious frown I begin to recognise as typical.
"The spell which took me to you… I asked it to bring me somewhere safe." I lower my voice, trying to imbue my voice with as much faith as I can. I need her. I need her to believe in my trust.
Her frown deepens, and a flush settles on her cheeks, but she says nothing.
L.V.H.G
Everything is so surreal. Everywhere, people are getting ready for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Harry isn't talking to me and Ron keeps giving me incredulous looks, so Harry must have told him what happened. I suppose the adults must be doing something about Voldemort, since Professor Lupin told me not to go into the garage again. Mrs Weasley keeps giving me and Ginny jobs to do. I think Harry must have talked with Lupin and Moody too because I haven't seen anyone near the garage except Arthur Weasley, who appears to be doing something odd with a chicken coop in the yard, but is definitely watching the garage. Obviously, he's on guard duty, I can see him out the window as Ginny and I make up the beds for Fleur's parents.
"Hermione, dear, could you go and check the wards? Kingsley did it this morning, but we're trying to put a bit of magic into them every few hours just to be sure."
"Sure, Mrs Weasley," It's another perfect summer day, although I transfigure my sneakers into boots just to make sure I don't get mud all over my socks as I trudge out through the field. The Burrow is under the protection of the Fidelius Charm, so we don't really need wards, but it's best to be on the safe side. It's nice to be out of the house, just enjoying the warm breeze, forgetting about Voldemort.
I hear an odd gruff noise from the grass. I look up. Harry and Fred and de-gnoming the garden and squealing brown gnomes are arcing through the air across the fields. One lands quite close to me. The gnome is growling and swearing to itself, clearly very unhappy, when all of a sudden there is a sharp squeak and then nothing.
In fact, all of the gnomes thrown into the field fall silent a moment after their rough landing; normally, I would expect to hear them digging grumpily to get back underground. There is definitely something in the field with me and the gnomes. I have a pretty good idea of what it might be. We couldn't find Nagini at my house, and I think she must have found a way to follow her master here; Voldemort's living Horcrux; the snake that attacked Mr Weasley. "Serpentem revelio," I whisper, swinging my wand round cautiously. It's hard to make out in the bright sunlight, but a long, thin haze of pale blue light swirls across the grass, curving with the creature's undulations. Nagini.
"Immobulus," I say softly, pointing my wand where the faint haze still lingers over the snake, invisible in the long grass. Nothing happens. The poor gnomes continue to be systematically devoured. My blood is pumping in my ears and I stand like a scarecrow, wand out, stock still, the wind blowing my hair into my face. I try the spell again, in case it was a mistake. Nothing. Of course! Voldemort would have been stupid not to cast all manner of protective enchantments on his prized Horcrux. Probably the only reason my first spell worked was because I cast it on the field, not Nagini herself. What am I going to do? If I move, the snake will certainly know I'm here… if I don't move…
The minutes drag by and I worry that I'll have to stay here all day. But as the gnomes keep flying across the fields, swearing and squawking, it seems that they slowly stop being gulped down so quickly. Perhaps she's almost full? Maybe if I just wait a little longer? Then a little brown gnome staggers past me, unmolested, grumbling his way into the ground. I count: 1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8… 9… 10… The gnome is still unhappily getting on with digging. I wait for another gnome, just to be sure. He too, seems to be burrowing into the earth, free of snake attack. Eventually, I allow myself to breathe again and carefully make my way back toward the burrow. All of a sudden, there is a hiss behind me and something smooth and wet brushes past my leg. I scream, breaking into a run, heart racing. But Nagini doesn't follow. I quickly cast a breathless warding hex on the field, making sure Nagini can't get out.
As soon as I make it to the yard, I catch myself jogging toward the garage. I stop. Was I really going to tell Voldemort about the snake? I walk back toward the garden, where Harry and Fred are about half-way through the de-gnoming. The Weasleys must have a real infestation. "Harry, I need talk to you."
Fred winks at Harry. "First Ginny, and now Hermione – real ladies' man I see, Harry!"
I roll my eyes as Harry glares at Fred, before turning the glare on me. "About what?"
"About…" I glance nervously at Fred, whose blue eyes are full of curiosity, "about the you-know-whats."
Harry's eyes widen. "Oh, yeah…" he turns to Fred apologetically, "I'll be back in a sec…"
"Longer than that and I'll tell Ginny the two of you were French kissing!"
We find a quiet place around the back of the Burrow and I tell Harry about my encounter with Nagini. "We can't hurt her with conventional spells. We have to break You-Know-Who's enchantments first and… well, I've never seen any charms that powerful; it was as though my spell was never cast."
He gives me a serious look, "So… you're still in for destroying the Horcruxes?"
"Of course I am! Just because I think that a helpless man shouldn't be tortured for things he can't remember, doesn't mean I don't want to make sure he's defeated!" My eyes prick with moisture and I realise how much his attitude hurt me.
Harry's green eyes flash for a second, but then he turns away, embarrassed. "Yeah, you're… you're right. We should be better than him. It's just… after everyone just put their lives on the line for me… and there he was… I just snapped. It won't happen again… Look, I've got to get back to the gnomes. We'll talk about this later with Ron, alright?"
"Fine..."
L.V.H.G
It's been hours and Nagini has not returned. The absence of any of my captors means, I think, that Hermione Granger has been warned away from me. Although the burns are slowly becoming more bearable, I would be very grateful for more of her miraculous salve. I hope Nagini hasn't been caught… the thought makes me nauseous. It is becoming difficult to see straight. Corners seem to weave around me, my eyes slide in and out of focus of their own volition, and my head will not cease to pound. I swallow compulsively, trying to con my painfully dry throat into thinking of saliva as water. Water… I need water… water… please… I beg any deity or magical entity who might be listening. Please… water… I need water…
BLIP!
Something hits me sharply on the back of the head.
BLIP! BLIP!
Plump droplets strike the floor and I look up. It is raining inside the garage. Actually raining inside the garage! Clean precipitation is falling from the patched, dirty, old ceiling as though it were a gravid sky. I open my mouth as wide as possible, trying to catch the rain with a grateful tongue. For the first time, I feel this unnatural body as my own, as I fling myself backward, delighting in the feel of the heavy beads of water running together across my hairless scalp, trailing down my face and over my chin. If only I were not tied up! I close my eyes, and it seems the most natural thing in the world to let out a wordless hiss of pleasure as the rain sooths my smarting fingers. The more I revel in it, the harder the rain seems to fall, bouncing off the greasy floor, soaking me through. I feel myself like a new creature, my mouth full of the miraculous water. My skin is no longer sweaty from pain, fear and immobilisation; my injuries too, are ameliorated by the cool liquid.
I begin to shiver and the shower eases, as if sensing my discomfort. I lie on my back, staring up at the perfectly ordinary roof. The only evidence for the aberration is my sopping figure and the large puddle stretching out across the floor.
Did I make that happen?
It is the only possible conclusion. Yet… yet… how? Nagini and I had spoken of magic performed without a wand, yet Hermione, Nagini and the boy… Harry… had all behaved as though real magic could not be performed without one. Nagini had been horrified at my handing over my wand to Hermione, while she herself had successfully stopped Harry's attack on me by removing his wand from him. I had not seen anyone perform magic without one.
But wasn't I – Tom Riddle – meant to be a feared wizard lord? Did it not make sense that I might possess abilities beyond what might be considered normal? However uncommon the ability, it is obvious those imprisoning me do not know about it. Otherwise they would surely have taken more precautions in constructing my cage. I stretch my lipless mouth taunt into a tight smile and focus...
~*~
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no subject
Date: 2010-12-22 03:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-30 09:39 am (UTC)Thanks, I had a lot of fun with the gnomes! I almost had a scene with Luna explaining gnome magic, but decided it slowed the pace too much.
Nagini fans unite!
no subject
Date: 2010-12-31 04:16 pm (UTC)I am reading your fic instead of doing laundry and other productive things on my only day off this weekend (but yay overtime).
I don't think Harry comes off as a git here. Who wouldn't react to Voldie that way?