Savior of Darkness

Chapter 7: Wishes Come True, Not Free

Draco and Harry glared at each other over my bed. It was even more intense than when Draco and Mr. Malfoy had stared Percy down. However, I had a feeling this feud was a far more trivial matter than they were making it out to be. They hardly looked old enough to have blood spilled or loves stolen between them. Drolly I threw out, "Lovers quarrel?"

If looks could kill, I would be in mortal danger. As it was, I was only amused when they both turned to me in horror.

"NO! No...just...no." Harry was so disgusted he had trouble spewing out the words. He shook his head emphatically at me, as if I had been serious.

"I was joking," I assured him.

Draco's face was also drawn up in a sneer. "Potter can't take a joke if it concerns his precious image."

Curious, I probed, "What image is that?"

"Nothing," Harry said steely, eyes still on Draco. "Look Malfoy, I was just here visiting a friend-"

"The mudblood who helps him save the world in their deranged view. Not that you'll hear him giving anyone else credit." Draco abruptly cut in.

Harry stepped over toward him at that, his face darkening. The nurse came in just then, with a worried expression on her face. "What is going on here?" She demanded, looking from Draco's to Harry's face and back again. "Mr. Malfoy? Potter?"

They stopped glaring in turn and shifted their gazes contritely toward hers. "Nothing, Madame Pomfrey. Sorry if we were making noise," Harry said through clenched teeth.

Madame Pomfrey still looked at them sternly. "Well, you can settle your differences later. Now Mr. Potter, it is after visiting hours. You can come back tomorrow to see Ms. Granger."

Harry seemed about to protest, but the authoritative expression on Pomfrey's face deterred him. Turning, he walked behind the drawn curtain, presumably to say goodnight to Granger. He then gave Draco a final frown, me a wave, and let Pomfrey escort him out.

Once he left I saw Draco sigh. "I thought he'd never leave."

I lifted an eyebrow at him. "Waiting for something?"

"The air to clear," he said, smirking. "His hypocrisy is stifling. There's not enough room in here for air and his ego."

I smiled at that. "I think he feels the same toward you."

Draco flipped a lazy hand at that. "He feels nothing towards me. He can only think of things in relation to himself. He only knows that I see through his act, and that makes him feel scared for himself."

"Well." I could think of nothing to add, but I needed to prod him to continue. I finally settled on, "Fear can provoke many things, I'm finding."

At that, Draco shifted to face me. An entire side of his face was darkening from a lump the size of a small fist on his left temple. Eyes narrowing, he switched to a different conversational thread. "Everyone is talking about you, you know."

"Indeed?" I offered nothing else, but that didn't deter him.

"Oh, yes. I thought you might be interested to know that. It just popped into my head, since we were speaking of fear," he said loftily.

"So you believe I instill fear?" An icy grip wrapped itself tightly inside of me. I didn't know why, but not having a clue what he was talking about filled me with unease. I didn't trust his confident glare. I tried to keep shifting the focus on him.

He paused at that before giving a laugh in delight. "Well, you are new. Different. We don't get many transfer students here at Hogwarts. And you haven't been Sorted and placed in a house, and the teachers are rearranging classes...you've created quite a stir. And anything different causes one some modicum of fear."

"So you're afraid?" I batted back at him.

He turned back, giving a smug smile at the ceiling. "No."

"Well then, I must not be new to you." I said, to which he just shrugged. Frustrated, I asked, "Do you know what good it is to have an answer to a riddle not shared?"

At that he turned back to me. Cautiously he said, "Besides having an advantage? No."

"Well, it certainly isn't justifiable arrogance." He had yet to prove to me he had anything to lord over me, or deserved to.

"Fair enough. Care to know the riddle then?" He waited for my shrug before continuing. "However can you know so many of the older people here, yet hardly any of the actual students?"

"Since you know so much, I assume you know the answer to that as well. I haven't my memory." I shot back coldly at him.

"Ah," Draco said, holding up a finger. "But why should that entail the students not knowing you? Only dear old Potter and his Weasel know you."

"That I killed a Basilisk, he said," I replied slowly, remembering dinner the other night.

"Yes, well, I'd be careful about that. I've seen him slowly shift that story about. Add in a few more details about how HE went in to save Ginny...I wouldn't be surprised if you were cut out of the story completely soon, especially if it made the press." He noticed how silent I remained, and clucked his tongue. "It must be terrible, to rely on others for your own memory. Can't trust what anyone is saying."

I refused the bait. Draco waited a moment before trying again. "It doesn't have to take so long, you know." I slid my eyes over to him and waited as he finished. "Other people can help you. People with greater resources and better memories of the past."

"Really?" I asked. "And whatever would I owe to these charitable souls?" My eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

Draco seemed a bit put off by that, but recovered quickly. "I haven't put up a false front before you. I think I'm just about the only one. So even if you don't like me, at least I've been truthful. Isn't that what you want? I've no hidden agenda. I don't want Potter taking the credit again. I think it's sick he's trying to improve his image over the death of a young girl. And, he is just an annoying git who needs to be taken down a peg or ten."

I looked at him skeptically. "So you want to help me over whatever silly feud you have with that other kid? "

He gave an even smile at that. "It runs a bit deeper than that, you'll come to understand. In helping you, you'll see in fact I'm helping a great many people. Destruction follows this Potter, its what he feeds on to sustain his greatness. But, I can see you aren't ready to trust me yet. Which makes sense. I doubt I would think very highly of you if you did trust anyone right now."

"You're approval means the world to me," I said dryly. Staring at him straight on I added, "You want my help for anything...first prove you're worth it."

Draco's jaw clenched at that, but I saw a glimmer of grudging respect in his gray eyes. It was as if he had in part expected my reaction. I felt a bit wary of that, and welcomed the return of Pomfrey. She carried in two trays of food, placing one of each beside Draco and myself.

She looked from Draco to myself suspiciously. "I had to brew up some draughts for the both of you in the lab. Was everything alright in here?"

I gave her a charming smile. "Fine, thanks." She gave a small smile back and turned to Draco. I leaned over and pulled the tray she set closer.

Setting it before me, it wafted an unrecognizable scent up to me. Glancing over, I saw Draco uncover a plate of lean meat and warm greens. It seemed palatable. I fervently hoped I would be able to keep it down. Part of my headache must have been due to the empty knot my stomach had shriveled into. Reaching out, I grasped the silver cover and lifted.

~SAVE ME! ~

I felt myself slam back against the rickety headboards, away from the horror before me. The grotesque face of a rotting corpse spun round to me. Its shriveled sockets glared a murderous guilt as worms crawled from it eyes. It kept shifted features...

~YOU DID IT! ~ The fates of men and women both old and young took turns screaming out at me from the hollow space that once held a living voice.

The unrelenting tirade washed upon me, growing stronger with each accusation. ~RAPIST! YOU SOILED OUR FAITH, OUR SOULS! MURDERER! ~

~PILLAGER! ~

~SLAUGHTERER! ~

~BEAST, DEVIL, YOU SLAYED OUR CHILDREN! INNOCENT CHILDREN, GOOD MEN, DARING WOMEN, STRONG FRIENDS MASSACRED, LOVING FAMILIES CORRODED WITH YOUR TAINTED BEING, YOU RIPPED TO DEATH ANY LIFE WITH JOY! ~

~PLAGUE, DEMON, I LOST MY SON! MY DAUGHTER! MY MOTHER, MY SISTER, MY BROTHER, MY LOVER, MY FRIEND! YOU CURSED FILTH, YOU MALEVOLENT MONSTER, YOU SEIZED MY SOUL! YOU CAPTURED MY SPIRIT! YOU MADE ME KILL! YOU MADE ME BEND TO YOU! YOU LURED ME IN, YOU PROMISED ME JOY, YOU LAUGHED AT MY PAIN, YOU DREW SWEET LIFE OUT OF EVERY SORROW YOU EVER CAUSED!~

~YOU TOOK MY LIFE, YOU FIEND! EVIL FILTH, MAY DESTRUCTION BEFALL YOUR EVERY STEP. MAY YOU REMEMBER EVERY CURSED THING YOU DID. MAY YOUR WICKEDNESS SWALLOW YOU DOWN, PLUNGE YOU WHERE NONE OF YOUR CRIES CAN BE HEARD! MAY WINGED DEVILS BEFALL YOU, MAY GOOD GRACE BE DENIED TO YOU, MAY THE FIRES OF ANY HELL IMAGINABLE SWALLOW YOU, FOR YOU NEVER WILL BE WELCOMED INTO ANY HEAVENLY REPRIEVE!~

~YOU DON'T DESERVE SANCTITY! YOU DON'T GET PEACE!

~YOU DON'T GET TO NOT REMEMBER!~

~ EVIL! ~

Each was contorted in agony and terror, as children's screams wailed before me and adults wept with the sorrow of years. A final face spun round, one terrified and agonized, one sorrowful and accusing. A younger face, one not as corroded with decay as the other. A girl, with faint tufts of hair a dull red, and a spark as betrayed and saddened as angered.

~You lied to me...to me...Remember? ~

_____________________________________________

"He...he just passed out, Sir," Pomfrey said in a trembling voice. One minute he was talking to me fine, thanking me, and the next...he just pulled up his tray, screamed a bloody wail, and pitched over." Her eyes were wide with terror and guilt.

Lucius hid a smile at that. "The poor boy," he said. Dumbledore gave him a glare at that, and he backed off. "I suppose I should be off. Dumbledore, I'll see you later to finish up that little Ministry matter. I'll see Draco back to his common rooms, if that is alright, Madame Pomfrey?" Lucius waited for her to nod in tearful distraction at him. He waved his son over. Draco downed the draught she had made, pulled a face, and followed him obediently.

"So what did you talk to Dumbledore about?" his son asked as they strode down the deserted halls.

"Nothing of any consequence. Did you have a chat with young Mr. Riddle?" Lucius asked, glancing at his son. The bruising wasn't that bad, thankfully.

"Yes, Sir. He acted pretty much as you said he would," Draco informed him, keeping the details sparse. Lucius smiled at what he heard. Of course he had. Lucius had done his history on young Tom Riddle over the years...ever since the diary came into his possession. He had worked out how to approach such an instance for years. Of course, the Obliviation was something unexpected. But it was working out beautifully. Everyone was behaving exactly right. It was like a living game of wizard's chess, and each pawn was perfectly placing itself before him.

"Well, it is a trying time for him." Lucius said piously, sharing a glance with his son.

"I offered to help him. Not specifically in any way." Draco gave his father a glare at that. Lucius knew Draco was still miffed at how little he knew. All he had told his son was that Tom had been an old student at Hogwarts who ended up helping in the Dark Lord's cause. Draco would have to prove himself more fittingly useful before he gave anything else away. Who knew yet if the risk would be worth it?

"Good boy. Perhaps you might give him some small help first. Show him around, he might learn a few things." At that Draco gave a quick roll of his eyes. Lucius stopped him to glare seriously, and Draco gave a small grin.

"I will, Father," he said. He was swift enough to know that meant to give Tom a few gleanings of his past. No doubt about it, Draco was a fairly quick study. If he only applied himself more, he wouldn't be behind that filthy mudblood Granger. What a humiliation that was. Of course, Lucius hadn't had to apply himself that hard to get his superior grades at school. Sure, a bookworm pureblood or two got the best of him, but a mudblood? Never. No mudblood ever got ahead of him. But then, he wasn't sure he would be any happier if he had had a son who out-achieved him than one who didn't quite compare to him.

They had reached the Slytherin common rooms by now. Lucius smiled faintly in remembrance when he saw the entrance. Many devilishly good times had gone on down here. Some that had involved Narcissa, and ones he swore she would never know about.

Business taken care of, he said to Draco, "I'll be in touch soon. I won't tell your mother about the accident. You know how she worries, and then she gets those frown lines she's always complaining about."

He and Draco shared a smile over Narcissa's vanity. Draco said teasingly, "I remember when you held a party for her the first time she turned thirty. She was furious you not only remembered that, but had the audacity to share it with others."

"Yes, well, your mother is harder to pacify than the Minister at times. But to her credit, according to her she has remained thirty for quite some years. That takes quite a determination to retain that delusion." Lucius was enjoying Draco more and more as he was able to amuse him. He had felt little for Draco as a baby, but now he couldn't deny a touch of pride.

Draco beamed in front of him at the rare moment of intimacy. And he still looked a bit hopeful, as if he wanted the conversation to continue. Charming as it was, Lucius quickly remembered he had to get back to his office. "Well, I'm off, Son."

"Wait!" Draco called after him, and Lucius turned around expectantly. Draco knew better than to waste his time.

Fumbling for a minute, Draco looked down as if unsure how or if he wanted to proceed. Softly, he said, "I was just wondering--about my accident today--it's not a big deal--"

"What is it?" Lucius cut in sharply. "I really must be off, Draco."

"Sorry--I was wondering if--" Draco brought his eyes up to meet his father and quickly finished, "If you knew that Tom had an accident today also. But of course you do, you were there when Pomfrey talked about it a bit. It looked like he was screaming at something. It might be nothing--"

"Draco," Lucius interrupted again. "You're babbling. Don't do that."

"Sir, I--Yes, Sir," Draco finished quietly. Under Lucius's gaze, he pulled himself up and gave a stronger smile. With a confident tone he said, "Goodnight, Sir."

Lucius gave his son a nod goodbye. "Goodnight, Son."

__________________________________________

Dumbledore walked over to where Tom lay, his face gray against the pillow. He still held reservations about using any magic on him, but he couldn't let this matter rest. Raising his wand, he pointed it at Riddle and said, "Enervate!"

Tom did not awake gently. Rather his eyes flew open and he jerked upright with a shuddering gasp. His flung his arm and crashed the dish onto the floor, and then swung himself as far away from it as possible. His face turned a sickly shade of green as he leaned over, shaking and retching.

Dumbledore approached him slowly, holding his hands out before him. Tom turned his wild focus onto him, and in doing so an invisible wall was erected right in front of Albus. Tom's eyes widened further as Albus walked into it at first, then stepped back, frowning as he ran his hand over the barrier. It looked like he was making a strange hand wave, pausing several feet from the bed for no reason.

Smiling at Tom with a confidence he certainly didn't feel, Dumbledore said, "It's alright, Tom. Wonderful barrier, by the way."

"Did I do something?" Tom asked in a hesitant, ragged voice.

"Yes, but don't worry about it. Take a deep breath and calm down," Dumbledore instructed him. Meanwhile he focused on the wall, pointed his wand and commanded, "Finite Incantatem!" The sound of a wall trembling was heard, and a moment later it was gone. Pocketing his wand, Dumbledore once again began to approach the bed. He paused at the end of it, giving Tom some space as he sat on the corner.

Tom drew himself in protectively, warily eyeing Dumbledore. Albus could see him working out what to say. He waited patiently until Tom said, "I'm sorry."

Dumbledore paused at that momentarily. "For what?"

"I don't know." Tom shrugged, looking down. He then brought his eyes back up to face Albus head on. His eyes locked onto Dumbledore's with the same ferocious intensity they always had. "What am I?"

"Why don't you tell me what happened, first? Then we can properly piece together what is going on." Dumbledore suggested. He wasn't exactly looking forward to the direction this conversation was heading.

Tom shook his head vehemently. "No. First I have to know just..." His eyes trailed back down to the overthrown dishes, and he looked queasy again. "Am I even really human?"

Part of him wanted to reach out to the boy before him. But Tom had never reacted well to such sympathetic contact. So instead Dumbledore offered as gently as possible, "Tom, I am completely certain that you are human. As you recalled, you were a student here. I will tell you that that was quite a while ago. How, and why, you are here now, I am afraid is still a mystery. But that you are real, I can fully attest to. Alright?"

Slowly Tom drew his eyes back to the Headmaster. In a low voice he asked, "Then what do you think of me? This real me."

"Why do you ask that?" Dumbledore asked, deftly dodging the question.

His counter did not go unnoticed on Tom, who gave him a hard glance. He finally gave a slight shrug. "Everyone seems afraid of me." He coolly offered.

Dumbledore leaned in at that, giving Tom a twinkling smile. "I'm not," he said. "And you must understand, this has been a trying year so far. Students were injured, rumors are flying, and someone new pops up. Most don't know you, and those that do are, understandably, concerned. It is not a usual occurrence for people to come back like this."

"I see." Tom was visibly absorbing this news. Dumbledore saw the steel façade shadow over his face as he asked, "Am I still living, then? Is there a present Tom Riddle living? Or did I die?"

Albus pursed his lips at that, thinking of how to proceed. Whatever answer he gave, Tom would surely remember and analyze thoroughly. He finally said, "No one has heard from Tom Riddle in years." Before Tom could stew on that, he gave a follow-up. "Why would you think you were dead?"

It was now Tom's turn to pause and craft his answer. This had always been their relationship. A dance of half steps, a song of half-truths. A game of respect or distrust, either way it still hung between them. Tom never trusted anyone fully, and Dumbledore was always too afraid with what he might do with any confidences. He had thought it always in Tom's best interests that he had remained cautious in the details he shared with him. But history was slowly repeating itself, he thought worriedly as he pressed a hand to his throbbing temples. Should he just tell Tom everything about his past? Would it make any difference? Tom's mind was like a minefield, and any wrong step Dumbledore took in it could set off an explosion. He had never felt so helpless before...and from Tom's air of confidence, Dumbledore would bet Tom felt the same way inside.

Tom finally offered, "I saw something under the lid, on the plate. It was... just... death." His eyes clouded a bit as he repeated, "Death... I saw corpses decaying, and screaming from their graves."

Dumbledore closed his eyes at that, letting the wave of terror wash over him. As calmly as he could, he asked, "What were they screaming?"

He opened his eyes to see the façade on Tom's face still firmly in place. Only on his brow did he sweat slightly. "They were angry about something, I think. I didn't catch the details." His look answered Dumbledore before he could ask if there was nothing else he wished to add.

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Very well." He and Tom stared at each other for another moment, until Albus broke the silence. "That must have been terrifying."

Tom gave a small shrug. "I think my fainting can attest to that." Dumbledore keenly caught that he was furious and humiliated with himself for losing consciousness.

"I think you should take the greatest comfort in that," Dumbledore spoke quietly. When Tom turned a skeptical eye on him, he gave a faint laugh. "The emotion of seeing such horror overtook you. I can think of nothing more humane than that."

"I don't see how fainting can be seen as a success, "Tom asked dryly. He had a weakly amused look crack through his stony expression, as if intrigued by how Dumbledore would work this theory out.

At that Dumbledore gave a slight shake of his head. "That would depend on what you were trying to succeed in. If it was to prove your humanity, I think it an admirable success."

Dumbledore caught the grudging smile Tom gave him at that. "Somehow I doubt that was the intent."

"You never know. But you can always make it your intent," Dumbledore said amicably. However, deep down he had the same impending doubts.

Just then, the figure of Percy entered the ward. He was dressed in the worn, causal clothing that all the Weasleys wore under their robes. For once his prefect badge was nowhere to be seen. An expression of calm impenetrability covered his being. "Headmaster, I just returned. I was told I could find you here, " he said in his crisp voice.

Dumbledore nodded slowly, leaning away from Tom. "How are you, Percy?"

Percy gave a trembling smile at the inquiry. "Fine, Sir. As is the family." He then turned to Tom, as if to change the subject. "Drink from the bottles marked poison, did we?"

Tom had retreated behind his impenetrable shell as well. "Touché," he replied. But Dumbledore did not miss the grayness of his pallor, and the slight shake of his hands.

Making up his mind, Dumbledore said, "Percy, if you would be so kind as to occupy Tom for a few hours, I'm going to try and figure out what happened tonight." He gave Tom a meaningful glance, to which Tom nodded back.

Percy looked a bit confused, but said dutifully, "Of course, Sir." He seemed about to help Tom when the other boy wavered getting up. Tom gave him a refusing wave of his hand, but Albus still smiled at the offer. No matter what, Percy's heart was evident beneath his shining pomp.

As they left, Dumbledore called after them, "Just stop by my chambers later." They both nodded and left. After they had retreated, Dumbledore turned to face the overturned dishes. Frowning, he called Madame Pomfrey into the room. "Poppy, if you would be so good, there is someone I need you to fetch for me."