Savior of Darkness

Chapter 8: Divide and Conquer

Tom´s face was deathly pale, yet in the shine of the moonlight Percy could see strong determination. Percy had to rush a bit to keep up with him. "Tom, where are you going?"

"The library." Came the calm reply. Percy noticed how easily Tom was navigating the way there.

Feeling uneasy, he put a hand on Tom´s shoulder to stop him. "Tom, wait. I don´t think that would be wise."

"You don´t, do you?" Tom´s face was now hidden by shadows, his back to the window. It made it impossible for Percy to read his tone or face.

"I don´t think Dumbledore would approve."

"I see. He begrudges students books now?" In the dark it was impossible for Percy to tell whether he was mocking or not. It was as if the shadows concealed more than light from him, stifling the sound of Tom´s voice.

"Well, no..."

"So it´s just me then?" The reply was immediate.

"It´s not you. It´s after hours. Nobody is allowed in the library now. That´s the rules." It felt easier to hide behind the universal school code than tell Tom that everyone was indeed being more wary with him. Though he guessed Tom was not blind to it.

However, Percy wasn´t sure how well his reason stood with Tom. He just gave a little smile, refusing to move either forwards or back. "Very well. Don´t want to get you in trouble."

For some reason that chafed at Percy more than when his brother´s or schoolmates said similar things. "It´s not that." Perhaps it was because Tom reminded him of himself, at least in mannerisms and attitude so far. For him to see Percy as everyone else did ate away at him inside.

"No?"

"No. It´s just that there are rules, and they should be respected. The school has them for a reason."

"I see. Well, the school must know best." Tom began to walk away from the library. Percy fell in silently beside him, wishing he felt on steadier footing. Tom kept his eyes ahead, an indistinguishable smirk touching his mouth. "And you are the best, Percy, so Dumbledore says. So I shall defer to your judgement."

"I´m only doing what´s been asked of me." Percy felt on the defensive, although there wasn´t a trace of aggression or hostility in Tom´s voice. Rather, it was like he was being led down a path of conversation that Tom brushed through, leaving tangled words behind him to snag Percy.

"And you always do what you are told. I´m sorry, asked. Well, I shall tell Dumbledore that you make a very good assistant."

It seemed like a compliment, even the tone in which Tom delivered it. But Percy was too used to the subtle arts and technique of sarcasm to not be suspicious. Percy might have grown up with five brothers who outright mocked and belittled him, but that didn´t make him immune to understanding tricks such as this one. Indeed, how often had he tried to twist an apology or correction out of his siblings with words?

Percy stopped there, right before the Great Hall. Angry words came to his mouth, but he pushed them back. It was late, and it had been a truly horrible day...the worst day of his life. If he were overreacting to what Tom said, that wouldn´t be fair to jump all over him. He´d had enough fighting that day...

"Percy?" Percy was dragged back by the quiet sound of Tom´s voice. He shook himself and returned focus on him. Tom´s eyes were cautious, and with a hint of curiosity. Yet in a voice one would use when speaking to an injured animal, he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Fine." Percy nodded at him, and Tom nodded back, accepting the lie. They stood there before the Great Hall, as Percy racked his brain for something to do with him. Finally, his eyes lit up. "Do you want to play chess?"

Tom´s look remained cautious. "Chess?"

Nodding, Percy motioned him over to one of the tables and conjured up a board. "Wizard´s chess. It´s a game."

"A game?" Tom was still staring at him skeptically.

"A strategy game. Look...Here´s the board. There are two sides, white and black. Two people play, each representing a side."

"How enthralling." Percy looked up, and saw Tom still had that damned indefinable smile on his face.

"Would you rather just sit here?" Percy fought to control his temper. So far Tom had done nothing specifically to incite his anger. Still, the bit of arrogance he saw, whether present or not, was razoring his already raw nerves.

Shaking his head, Tom took the seat opposite him. He seemed to grow calmer by the moment. "No, do go on. Sides, you say?"

"Yes. Think of the sides like teams, my dad always said. The board is a playing field, and the goal is to defeat the other side."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I see. Sounds more like two armies. And this is accomplished by?"

"Well, there are sixteen pieces each. Eight Pawns, two Bishops, two Knights, two Rooks or Castles, one Queen, and one King. It is more like an army, I suppose. They each have their own way of moving..." Percy went through the movements allowed by each piece. "The board is set so that each player has a white square on their right, and a dark one on their left. Like so. The Queen is always on her own colored square. And, the ultimate goal is to get the King into an inescapable position. That is called checkmate."

"And yet the Queen is the most powerful piece..." Staring at the board, Tom pointed thoughtfully at the piece.

"Yes. How she is used is critical to the outcome of the King." Percy agreed.

"So in a way, the King represents you. Vicariously. If you get the King in danger, you lose. He is the object of the game. How interesting." Percy could see him putting it all together for himself. Finally he looked up. "Who begins?"

Arranging the pieces on his side, Percy said, "Traditionally, white moves first. Since this is your first time, I guess I´ll play it." Percy began to move, continuing to talk. "So, that was quite a mess in the hospital."

Tom paused at that. "I suppose."

"I mean, with the dish on the floor, and you and Dumbledore huddled near the corner of the bed. As if the dish were attacking or something." Percy lifted his eyes to Tom. "Your move."

Tom picked up a pawn and rolled it in his hand. "How observant. Though hardly a reasonable conclusion that I would draw. Consequently, I couldn´t help but notice you looking at one of the girls who was attacked." Percy felt his face begin to flush at the indirect mention of Penny. Still, he kept his composure as Tom continued. "Oh, I wouldn´t be upset. Your friend Harry was there visiting as well."

"Harry was visiting her?" Percy hoped he concealed his surprise. Harry couldn´t have been visiting Penny...he was twelve. And he didn´t even know her. Did he? Why would he visit Penny?

"Yes, with flowers even. Well, he was visiting one of the girls." Tom gave him a small smile as he let his words dangle. Percy hated that the question of which one sprang to his mouth.

"I´m sure he was visiting Hermione. She´s a close friend of his and Ron´s." Percy said tersely. It bothered him that he could be so pathetic as to think anything else.

"Ron?" Tom had already moved on.

"My youngest brother." Percy finished, glad for the change in topic.

"Ah. I see. Yes, I´m sure that was it." Tom clasped his hands before him, his face a mask of pleasantry. "Your move."

Percy took his knight out and saw an opening. "Does Dumbledore know you wish to study on your own?" Thwack...one of Tom´s pawns was crushed on the board. Percy couldn´t help smiling inside a bit.

Narrowing his eyes, Tom coolly watched him for a moment. "Why would I hide anything from him?" Tom finally countered. His eyes became even colder, but his smile was still evident. "So, you have a younger brother?"

Percy was immediately on edge. "Yes."

"Interesting. You don´t mention your family much." Tom didn´t even watch as one of his castles demolished Percy´s knight. His eyes were glued on Percy´s face.

"No, I suppose I don´t," Percy managed through a clenched jaw. He began a different strategy on the other side of the board, while remaining silent.

Tom pursued the conversation, with a different tone. "I am sorry if the topic bothers you. You understand, I have no family of my own. At least, that I know of. It´s nice talk about it. It makes me feel less...isolated."

"Family doesn´t always make you less lonely," the response came out of Percy brusquely, before he could hold it back. He saw the curiosity in Tom´s eyes and quickly added, "At least, I don´t see how talking about someone else´s family can help. If anything, I´d think it would make it worse. Check."

"Yes, well, it´s better than nothing. Since I can´t find out about my family on my own. However, you don´t wish to discuss yours." He lifted his brows at that and added, "Which is perfectly understandable, I am sure."

Percy didn´t know what to add to that, so he just moved in silence. He did feel sorry for Tom. Not sorry enough, however, to go into some deep story about his own life and family.

Tom was the one to break the silence. Pursing his lips, he gave what Percy could only describe as a consolatory shrug. "Well, a compromise then? We can talk about something else. There´s another family I know. What do you know about the Malfoys?"

Percy didn´t think he would ever have considered the Malfoys neutral territory for discussion. However, it was far too awkward to not talk, and watch Tom stare through him. "Lucius Malfoy works at the Ministry of Magic. As you know, his son Draco is in Slytherin."

"And we don´t like Slytherins, do we?" Tom´s voice was amused.

"I´ve yet to meet one I like. You can form your own opinion." Percy offered diplomatically.

"And why don´t you like them?" Tom asked, carefully examining both the board and Percy.

Because I´m human, was Percy´s first thought, which he quickly discarded. There were plenty of non-humans who disliked the Malfoys as well. "You try listening to them mock you and your family for years, and see how cozy you get."

Tom laughed at that, to which Percy raised his glance to him. In an amused tone, Tom said, "Well, at least there is a safe place to direct the hostility here tonight."

Percy gave a grudging smile, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Sorry. I shouldn´t say things like that. It just..."

"Is true?" Tom offered.

"Well..."

"Felt right?"

"Yes. But that doesn´t make it right." Percy said this as firmly as he felt it.

"Ah, here we are back at the rules again." Tom said teasingly.

"That isn´t a rule. It´s a moral...a personal one," Percy said, feeling uncomfortable. His parents had taught him never to backlash anyone, and he kept firmly to that rule. Perhaps it was because he knew just how hurtful it is to be at the receiving end. Still, deep down he really didn´t feel that bad degrading the Malfoys. At the moment, it felt pretty bloody great.

"How admirable. That cannot be easy. Well, I wonder what will happen if you are ever...asked...to do something that goes against your morals," Tom wondered aloud to him. Giving a smooth smile, before Percy could think how to respond Tom said, "Checkmate."

______________________________________

When Dumbledore entered the Great Hall, he was met with the sight of Percy and Tom. The boys sat opposite each other at the Gryffindor table, a chessboard between them. From the sight of the debris scattered, they had been at it for quite awhile. Some of the dust even coated their clothing, though they didn´t seem to even notice. Both leaned over the table, eyes fiercely locked, hands clenched beside the board. However intense they felt though, the sight of two ragged intellectuals waging battle across a dining room table lessened the moment for Dumbledore.

He cleared his throat, to which they took no notice. Raising his brow I bemusement, he called out, "Gentlemen?"

Both of them jumped in surprise and turned. Percy bore a slight flush, as if guilty or embarrassed at having been seen so. Tom merely met his gaze coolly, wearing an impenetrable mask of pleasantry.

"How goes the game?" Dumbledore inquired as he strode over.

"Very well, Sir." Percy gave a tight nod at Tom. "He´s a quick study."

"That he is," Dumbledore agreed. He was surprised to see a hint of delight cross Tom´s face then. Feeling a smile start to break him out of his dour mood, Dumbledore turned back to Percy. "You may go to bed, Percy. Thank you. I shall see you in the morning."

"Yes, Sir." Percy stood to leave, yet hesitation caught him. "Sir, I..." He cast Tom a glance before finishing.

"Yes?" Dumbledore probed.

Percy drew his attention back to him. "It can wait till tomorrow, Sir. I´ll come and speak with you before class." He gave a final look at Tom, nodded, and left.

"Have you any idea what that is about? "Dumbledore asked, turning back to Tom.

"Every idea," was the response. Tom´s eyes met his. "I didn´t know that the library was off limits to me."

"Yes, well, it is, unofficially. "Tom seemed surprised to hear that. His shadowed eyes focused even more keenly as Dumbledore continued slowly. "If you wouldn´t mind, let´s take this to my office."

Tom rose swiftly and obediently, walking a step behind Dumbledore. In the silence, Dumbledore thought back to his recent conversation with Professor Filius Flitwick.

*******

"There is definitely a spell cast on this," Flitwick had surmised, leaning over the overturned dishes scattered across the pristine hospital floors. His pale little eyebrows kneaded together as he mumbled over the mess. "Have you any idea where it came from?"

"I am afraid not, Filius," Dumbledore admitted. "However, I thought it best to bring you down to perform the release spell with me."

"Ah, Headmaster, you flatter me," Flitwick said, merriment not masking the concern in his eyes. Flitwick was known as the finest Charmer in England, but he still never thought to help the great Dumbledore. Of course, it was wisest for Dumbledore to take every precaution here, including having support.

Flitwick raised his wand, pointing it at Dumbledore and prepared to deflect anything that shot his way. Dumbledore, meanwhile, pointed his own wand at the shattered dish and spoiled food. Taking a deep breath, he commanded, "Imagio Encantato!"

The mess exploded, showering both Dumbledore and Flitwick. A haze glowed green and misty, but there was no whisper of a chanted spell to inform them. All that could be seen was the transparent image of the Dark Mark.

******

Once they had reached the office, Dumbledore opened the door and held it for Tom. Fawkes, upon seeing him, flew away back to Dumbledore´s chambers. Without giving Tom to ponder on it, Dumbledore waved him to one of the wooden seats placed before his desk. "Please sit."

Tom sat, his eyes taking in everything surrounding the room. It was packed with books and scrolls, and oddly shaped figurines Dumbledore had purchased on his many travelings. The room was lit, and the warm fire accentuated the reds and golden wood colorings of the room.

Tom made no sound, simply sitting there mirroring Dumbledore´s gaze back at him. Dumbledore shook his head in sad rebuke. There had been a time he would have missed the nuances crackling Tom´s façade. Perhaps it was because he was older, and knew what to look for. Or maybe Riddle had yet to re-master his tricks. Either way, the faintest hints of misery and caution bled through Tom´s cauterized face like a reopened wound.

Without saying another word, Dumbledore reached beneath his desk into a draw. Silently, he pulled out two thick folders. Placing them side-by-side on his cluttered desk, he instinctively placed another small package on top. Knowing

Tom would not speak, he went first. "There is indeed something you should know about what happened at the hospital earlier."

Tom perked up, a guarded interest showing itself. "Sir?"

"It appears that your return is not a secret, despite best efforts to keep it so," Dumbledore said, leaning back. Over his steepled fingers he watched Tom. "Tom, why do you think we have been so careful with you?"

If he was surprised by the question he didn´t show it. "I suppose for my own good."

"Yes, but why?"

He shrugged, indicating he either didn´t have an answer, or wasn´t willing to share one. Taking over, Dumbledore said, "Would it surprise you if I told you that, at one time, you were quite an excellent academic student?"

"Well, I have succeeded at chess," was his reply.

"Yes, well, this is a little different I am afraid." Dumbledore paused, making sure he proceeded exactly as planned. "You were quite an asset to the school. In many ways, everyone thought you´d grow to be a great asset to the entire community."

"And I wasn´t?" The question was given as if speaking about the weather. Dumbledore wasn´t surprised. Tom had never been one to express.

"Well, what is relevant now is that someone is trying to influence you. Someone who knows exactly what you are capable of."

"Like you are?" He did not have a trace of venom or accusation in his tone.

Still, Dumbledore felt the need to steer him off of that path sharply. "I do not recall ever sending you death threats on a platter," he said mildly.

"How did you..." Tom broke his question off, clenching his mouth shut. In a deep breath he tried a different thread. "Who is it? How do they know I´m here?"

He was a boy. He was sixteen, and terrified. Behind his stone demeanor, behind the eyes that had been old when he met him at eleven, behind the witty answers and cool indifference, he was human. Dumbledore refused to give up on that idea. He refused to give up on him, that there was nothing he could do.

Taking a deep breath, he gave Tom a warm, weary smile. He steeled himself, pushing the folders across the table with a steady hand. "This is not how I wanted to do this, but there is little choice. It won´t bring your memory back, but we can try to make it help. There is a history that I wish to go over with you now...together."

______________________________________

~I should apologize ~ Percy thought as he trudged to the Gryffindor common rooms. He had provoked the tiff with Tom at chess. He just hated to be confronted so calmly with the inadequacies and insecurities he felt about himself every day. Still, for whatever reason, how he could Think tom could handle it sickened him. Not that Tom hadn´t managed perfectly well. But the fact that he had taken his frustration out on someone who had to be suffering as well filled him with shame.

Part of him felt that Tom deserved to know about his past...whatever it was. Percy felt alone with his memory intact and his brothers a few steps away. He could only imagine how it would be to be stripped of all that. And yet, in a way, the invisible barriers that had grown between him and his family made them feel more distant with every thought of them. The closer he stood to them, the more aware he was that they didn´t understand him, nor he them. How they didn´t work so hard to be their best. How his siblings argued and jarred over anything inconsequential like Quidditch teams. How...how his parents had had so many children when they simply couldn´t afford them. That thought always made Percy feel lower than the Death Eaters he had grown up despising. If he felt like that, he should have been the one not to be born.

So he tried to make himself useful, which resulted in his mother thinking he was a perfect saint and student, and his brothers calling him prissy, a prude, the perfect prefect, an old woman, and many others. Ginny never really had called him that, but she never came to him for anything else than help with work either. He wasn´t a friend...he was a built-in study guide and rule-mongrel. Should she ask Mom to stay up late? Where did they keep the medical supplies? Who won the Troll War of 1387? No...none of his siblings loved him as a friend.

And he had encouraged that. He was often just as infuriated with them as they were with him. He made himself think at times that he had little use for them. Until it was times like these that he realized they had grown to have little use for him.

Maybe he could be of use to someone. He certainly hadn´t been to Ginny.

He heard voices as he entered the common rooms. Surprised, he glanced round to see Harry and Ron near the fire. Harry sat on the floor, piling what looked like scrolls of homework. Ron sat on the couch, no doubt copying the work he had missed. They both looked up as Percy entered. Unsure what to do, he blurted out, "What are you two still doing up?"

At that, Ron rolled his eyes and went back to his paper. Harry quickly jumped in. "I was just letting Ron copy my notes that he missed. Where were you?"

Percy walked over and stopped, pausing awkwardly between the couch and fireplace. It was as if the barrier between Ron and him had grown almost opaque. "I was with Tom. I taught him how to play chess, while Dumbledore was busy."

Percy sank onto one of the armrests of the couch. A gutted silence filled the air, and Percy found himself speechless on how to break it.

Harry finally did. Licking his lips, he nervously stepped into the role of mediator. "Madam Pomfrey said that the Mandrake potion should be ready by tomorrow, next day at the latest."

Everyone would be restored. Penny would be restored. Yet things would hardly return to normal...indeed, they never would. Taking a deep breath, Percy forced himself to smile. "That´s wonderful news, Harry."

"Yeah, that Ravenclaw prefect will be fine, and your precious power structure will be restored," Ron said bitterly. Those were the first words he´s said to Percy since Ginny passed away.

It was a cold smack, one that stung deeply. Explanations about Penny, about their relationship, came to his tongue. Words about Ginny, regarding his fear for her this entire semester, rang to his mind. About how the entire event left him farther from his family than ever...and how that seemed to be for their own good. Better to let them bond in anger at him than wrap themselves in their own grief. That his own anger at his playing a martyr smote him. He was hardly a hero in any sense, not even being able to be there for his family. He was little more than the Weasley who didn´t fit, who stood out and, consequently, placed himself higher. It was a secure position formed as much from him as from any Weasley member.

But the words dried up in his throat, having gone too long without voice to be able to sustain a life now. Instead, he looked at Harry, trying to steady his shaky smile. "Did Ron ever tell you about the chess lessons at the Weasley house?"

Even Ron couldn´t help but let out a tiny smile at the memory. Harry, eager to lighten the mood, shook his head. "No, never."

"Well, it was a big thing." Percy let himself fall onto the couch, nearer Ron but not looking at him. He directed the story at Harry. "You couldn´t learn until you were ready, Dad always said. Of course, how he knew you were ready was when you simply asked him. Ron started lessons at about two." Percy couldn´t help but sneak a glance at his younger brother. Ron still wouldn´t meet his eyes, but it was clear he was listening, and remembering.

Percy continued. "It was an enormous event for Dad. He would always wait till he had the whole day free. Then, he would get Mom to take everyone else out of the house for the day. `Chess is intimate,´ he would say. So Mom would roll her eyes and take the rest of the family away, leaving just Dad and whom he was teaching. And he would spend hours, going over every piece and move. He would tell stories about his learning to play it. He never let us win, but we would have to keep playing him that first day until we won on our own. He and Bill were at it for fifteen hours...he made Mom take the rest of us to a hotel. He didn´t let Bill give up."

Percy glanced at Ron, hoping to spark some conversation from him. He was still met with his little brother´s stubborn silence. Taking a breath, he continued. "Bill is still the worst...and you wouldn´t think it. He doesn´t even play anymore, not since George beat him at eleven. Anyway, the last thing Dad would do was give each of us a secret move. He said he had thought about each one to give us since the day we were born, and that it fit us perfectly. He warned us never to tell the other´s what our special move was."

He saw Ron´s smile widen. This was always Ron´s favorite part of their story about Dad. Percy waited for Ron to quietly pick the story up. "We all played Dad, and he only seemed to really have one special move...and after twenty years of us, it really wasn´t that secret anymore. We always wondered if he hadn´t just told each of us the exact same move, saying it was a special one for each of us."

"But as much as we wondered or laughed about that, we never did share our moves with each other to compare. Never. Not even Fred and George." Percy finished.

Silence enveloped them, broken only by Ron´s soft voice at last. "I wonder what Ginny´s move was." With that he slowly raised his eyes to Percy. "But she never would have told. Never. She´d hit me if I even brought it up, even if we were just joking and playing."

"I never even tried with her. I just told her no," Percy said, not sure if it was to him or to Ron and Harry. He wasn´t even sure he was still talking about chess.