Savior of Darkness

Chapter 10: The Stranger

Facing him again were Dumbledore, Tom, and Percy. They seemed to be becoming quite chummy, from all the time they were spending together. But before Draco could say another word, McGonagall gently but firmly pushed him forward. To Dumbledore, she said, "I'm afraid Mr. Malfoy is in need of a detention and proper reprimand. However, seeing as I am not his Head of House, I don't think it my place. Do you know where Severus is, Headmaster?"

Very clever of the old hag, Draco thought bitterly. Had she gone to Slytherin's Head of House, Snape would let Draco off with only a warning most likely. And the harpy wanted to see him suffer for such a little joke, since she detested Slytherins. So, she was working Dumbledore, wheedling him to let either the old coot or herself handle his punishment. His father would hear about this.

Dumbledore's eyes held no judgment as he said, "I'm sure Severus wouldn't mind you dealing with it, Minerva. He had quite enough going on, as it is."

At that, McGonagall's eyes flitted to Tom, then back to Dumbledore. "Very well, Headmaster." Her eyes dropped to Draco, and in her sharp voice she required, "Follow me then, Mr. Malfoy." She lead him out the door, walking quickly so Draco could only make a swift notice of the expressions on the others' faces before he left. Dumbledore looked weary but impenetrable, showing nothing behind his gentle façade. Percy looked furious, his back as stiff as ever. And Riddle...Draco caught eyes with him at the last moment, gray meeting blue. Riddle appeared amused, staring back at Draco levelly.

Well, it wasn't a budding friendship, but it was something. His father would be pleased to hear of it, when he returned home from whatever trip he was on now. Draco frowned; his father always refused to tell him where he was headed, and Draco felt that, of late, it would have been of particular interest to know his father's plans.

***

Every inch of Percy's being did not want to baby-sit Tom. He wanted to go back to Penny. His Penny, who was sweet as well as smart and let him hold her hand earlier that day. He had waited the whole night, sometimes with her family, other hours pacing outside to give the Clearwaters some privacy. Just after she had woken up, right after seeing her family, her eyes had settled on him waiting behind her father. Her round face positively lit up and she held out her hand, pulling him to her in a warm embrace. She didn't know about Ginny yet, and he didn't plan on informing her soon. It would be too horrid to press upon her right then. A frown of disapproval and worry had settled upon him when he found out that Hermione had already heard about it. The poor girl herself had just awoken.

Few of the students were left in the infirmary by now. Penny had wanted to leave as soon as she could, as had all the Petrified students. Percy was sure she would have swung herself up and crawled out, had he and her family not been there to calm her. After a few hours, the students were released to their dorms to rest with friends and family. During those hours, he had fetched her and her family food and drinks, giving her hair a brush or hand a caress when her parents and young sister weren't smothering her. Then, she had leaned on him as he took her to the Ravenclaw rooms, listening to him tell her to expect muscle aches and trembling like Pomfrey said, and to call for him if she needed absolutely anything. In response, she had smiled and kissed him and held him close, and it felt so incredibly good. Imagine, someone who appreciated his care and attention.

At the same time, he had felt guilty. He knew Dumbledore was counting on him, and he should have asked if he was needed with Tom earlier. But he had just needed someone to want him in a way that had nothing to do with being a blindly loyal assistant. Tom had tainted Percy's view of his assistance. All he had left was a desire to do something to help, something that was right, some way he could be useful and enjoy it. Penny filled that need inside him. In a way, his reaching out to Penny was selfish as well.

But now, in the office, Percy felt more confident. After speaking with Dumbledore, knowing the respected Headmaster had confidence in him, it reduced some of the insecurity Tom had easily slipped inside his cracks. Dumbledore know what was best, and he didn't bestow responsibility to those who shouldn't be trusted.

But then, Dumbledore had hired Gilderoy Lockhart as the Defense professor.

No, Percy told himself firmly to stop the doubts poking up. He trusted Dumbledore, and he wasn't going to start thinking like that. True, he'd sometimes questioned Dumbledore's decisions, but in the end he'd always decided that Dumbledore knew best. And if Dumbledore trusted him, there was good reason. And it wasn't because he was an unquestioning drone of an assistant.

Tom was watching him, staring at his eyes. Percy diverted his attention to Dumbledore, asking, "Is there anything specific I should do?" He heard a noise, and shifted his gaze back to Tom, seeing the faint, half-smile. They stood like that, eyeing each other for a moment. Then Percy's chin jutted out, and he turned his eyes back to Dumbledore, asking, "Sir?"

Dumbledore, too, was now wearing a smile that made him appear less weary. "I informed Tom that he could study with you...Arithmancy, Muggle Studies, and such. Minerva is working with him on History of Magic, but...if you wish, you could work with him on that a bit. I understand such an endeavor might persuade him to sleep," Dumbledore said with a knowing smile. Percy flushed appropriately on his classmates' behalf, even though he himself had never fallen asleep in Binn's classroom.

A moment of silent filled the room as he considered his choices. Percy adored Arithmancy. But, it would probably serve Tom better to study history. If McGonagall was working on the magical aspect of history, he could hardly expect to do better himself. But he also had a history of studying Muggles. His knowledge in that area ran from the ludicrous, from his father, to the reasonable, from classes at Hogwarts. He had taken the classes to obtain as well rounded an education as possible, but Percy couldn't deny that his father had played a role in his decision on Muggle electives. His father had been so proud when he took classes in Muggle Studies.

He began to say what he planned, but caught out of the corner of his eye Tom lean in expectantly, and Percy a bit petulantly shut his mouth. Giving Dumbledore a small smile, he said, "I know what to do with him, sir." To Tom, without explaining, he simply said, "Follow me, please." He expected Tom to glower, but instead the boy paused, and then smiled back at him calmly.

Percy couldn't fathom what that meant, but refused to falter in his step. He wouldn't succumb to Tom's little mental games.

***

Frustration was the word. I remembered what that felt like, as if I'd experienced it often enough in the past I couldn't remember. It was quickly reentering my realm of experiences, and Percy was the present target. 'Oh, I'm not going to tell you where we are going or what we're doing, because I'm the special helper and you're not.'

Prat.

I recalled that word as well. Memory seemed to have a remarkable capacity for retaining anything negative.

But outwardly I said nothing, letting him ponder on my seeming serenity. I followed him through the maze of corridors, ignoring the glances of curiosity we kept getting. Everything seemed to melt into one hazy smear before my eyes, anyway. By now I was so drained I was about to ask if I could just go to back the greasy haired Snape's rooms, or anywhere I could lay down, when a girl's voice interrupted.

My eyes lifted to see a tall girl with long, curly hair rushing unsteadily towards us. I glanced at Percy, seeing his expression lift and then sink into a concerned expression.

"Penny, what is it? You shouldn't be up," he scolded as he took the girl into his arms. She was shaking, small tears dripping from her eyes.

"Percy, I - it's...its eyes," she sobbed quietly. "You can't I- imagine, it - it was so, so hor - hor - horrible!" she gasped quietly against him. "Mum and Dad and Callie are gone, I - I told them I was fine, and I was, but it - it came back, in the dorm -"

"No it didn't," he said gently, but firmly. Quite firmly. He slowly turned her to where I couldn't see either of their faces, only hearing their voices.

Still, their body language communicated what I couldn't see in their faces. I saw him shift, moving his hands from around her waist to either her face or neck.

"Penny, shh...its dead. I can promise you, it's gone." His voice wafted behind to reach me.

"Did you kill it?" I heard the rising hysteria in her voice, intrigued over what they were speaking of. She continued, not pushing away from him but speaking as if enmeshed in a broiling anger and terror inside. "Did you kill it and see it die? No? Than how do you know? How do you know?"

A pause stretched where I could hear the faint rustling of her nervous feet, and then Percy said quietly, "No, I didn't kill it. I never saw it, and I didn't kill it." A strained note escaped his throat, as tight as his back appeared through his sweater.

It was over his sister, I realized. And the monster that I had apparently destroyed. That was what they were discussing. I cocked my head in further interest, craning it enough to see him kiss her forehead long and tenderly.

Ah. Girlfriend. The one that had been in the infirmary. I stepped back, further away from the tender moment, not wanting to witness it.

He kept speaking. "But I assure you, it's dead. I promise. If I could prove it to you, I would. But take my word for it. Dumbledore said it was gone. Harry saw it dead." A swallow there, I heard. "He...he found out where it was and saw it dead and gone. Nothing can hurt you, I swear. If there was anything, I..."

What? He'd protect her like his sister? I thought, but didn't give it voice.

"But there isn't anything, so you don't even have to contemplate it. All right?" he finished.

"Come back to Ravenclaw with me," she said. "No one will care if you're in there. Please?"

"I - I can't..." I heard his voice trail off, and then he twisted to face me. I think this was the first time Penny realized I existed. I let my eyes trail from his face to hers, then back as he continued speaking. "Tom, would you rather go back to Professor Snape's rooms, and lie down now? You must be exhausted."

I paused, not feeling especially generous, and then answered, "Actually, I'm not tired. I'd rather work. You can imagine, in my condition, I'm not in the mood to waste time...but, if you'd rather go with your girlfriend, of course I understand." I gave her a smile, and then added, "She seems to need you. I can read on my own...the librarian I'm sure would be helpful in picking out the right books."

I saw him pause, and then I added, "You can trust me. Right?"

His eyes narrowed, and he said, "It isn't that."

"It isn't?"

"No. I promised Dumbledore I'd help you. I'm trying to help you. And..." he turned back to Penny then, a regretful expression on his face. "Penny, I can't right now. I gave my word to help Tom...oh...this is Tom Riddle, by the way."

Classy introduction, I thought.

He continued. "Anyway, he's...well...you see, Lockhart cast a spell on him. Obliviate. I promised Dumbledore that I would help him. But I promise you, after I do that, and check on Fred and George and Ron, I'll come and stay all night at Ravenclaw with you."

Her eyes blazed, her voice still trembling. She was still lost in her emotional haze. "You promised? You gave your word? Well, heavens Mr. Weasley, you can't go back on that! That wouldn't be right or noble or fit in with your bloody ideals. So sorry that I had to go and have my life almost taken, that must have put a cramp in your obligations. Next time, maybe you'll want to be in the library with me when I'm about to be killed, not out on the bloody Quidditch pitch to watch a stupid game!"

She backed away, hurt and frenzied, so loud that others stopped to stare. "No, just forget it, Percival. Don't fit me into your busy schedule. And don't even think to change it for once. I don't want to be another obligation to you!" She turned and stomped off, then switched to running unsteadily. Behind her I could hear her trying to stifle her sobs.

Percy turned pale rather than flushed as he stared after her. After a long moment, he turned to me, said quietly, "Library," and walked away. I made no comment, following him.

***

"I wasn't trying to upset him," Hermione said quietly. She was standing in the Gryffindor Common Rooms, staring up the stairs where Ron had just stomped off. She bit her lip, turning to see Harry watching her. Annoyed with everything right then, she added, "He has to face it sometime, Harry. Playing chess and talking about Chudley Cannons isn't helping."

"No, they don't make him yell and run away," Harry said back. "I see how your way is better."

"Harry, think practically. He's avoiding the issue. He's bottling it up inside of him, avoiding it. It isn't healthy," Hermione threw another look at the door.

Harry looked ready to argue, then sighed. "Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it now, Hermione. Don't push him."

"I don't push anyone," Hermione snapped back. Then, seeing Harry's expression, she glared for a moment before shifting her expression downward. "It's for his own good. If only he weren't so stubborn..." I was only trying to help, she thought.

"He's stubborn?" Harry said with a small smile on his face.

Hermione spun at that and retorted, "I don't think you, of all people, should find that amusing." Then she examined his face and inquired, "How are you doing? It was ridiculous of you to go in there like that, but...thank you." Her voice trembled slightly but she regained composure quickly.

Harry looked uncomfortable. "Don't thank me. I didn't do anything."

He wasn't running away, at least. Hermione huffed out a sigh, explaining, "Harry, you can't possibly blame yourself. What happened to Ginny was...well, it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have done anything else. It's like I was saying to Ron, it just -"

"Hermione, shouldn't you lie down and rest?" Harry interrupted her.

She brushed him off, ignoring his indefinable tone. "Don't interrupt. As I was saying, if you think about it rationally, though I know that is difficult under the circumstances -"

"I know, I know, it isn't my fault," he mumbled, interrupting again. His eyes darted away from hers as he added, "Anyway, I should go...see how Ron is doing. Go lie down, all right? I'll check up on you later." As if Snape's class had just ended, he bolted away.

Sighing in exasperation, Hermione stood in the center of the room, her arms folded as she watched Harry with narrowed eyes. Long after he left, she still stood there, not heading or looking in the direction of the girls' dorms. She didn't want to lie down. She didn't want to lose control and sleep...she'd slept enough. Locked away, Petrified, from those eyes...

Stop it, she commanded herself. It's over. It's dead. There's nothing to fear, though of course it's reasonable that there are some residual memories. They don't mean a thing, and they shouldn't be paid attention to. In time, they should fade.

At least she owned up to her feelings and rationalized them out, unlike some people.

But still, the dorms she didn't head for. Instead, she left the Gryffindor tower, heading with a stiff but certain gait to the library. She couldn't think of any place to go, and she just found herself heading that way.

***

Three books Percy had spread out on the library table. Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles by Wilhelm Wigworthy, Muggles Who Notice by Blenheim Stalk, and The Philosophy of the Mundane: Why Muggles Prefer Not to Know by Professor Mordicus Egg. Besides that were two scrolls, one for each of them. Percy's had nice, neat notes diligently outlined in his carefully scripted hand. Tom's followed an outline that Percy couldn't quite decipher, and his writing was more haphazard and oddly angled in appearance. He seemed quite annoyed that the left palm of his hand kept getting smudged, but lacked the strength to curl and lift his hand differently.

They had been at it for roughly forty minutes, mostly with Percy lecturing. He now paused, wishing he could have brought a drink into the library since his throat by now was completely dry. He tried to swallow, and asked Tom, "Any questions so far?"

Tom nodded briefly. He'd seemed to shove his ego aside, and Percy chose to do the same. It helped that he was the one giving the knowledge, Percy had to admit. Tom also clearly had a keen and ready mind that, when it didn't make Percy feel on edge or cornered, Percy admired and even enjoyed to be around.

Examining his paper, Tom asked, "Why do some people possess magical abilities and others do not?"

Of course he would start with a question Percy couldn't answer. Clearing his throat for a different reason now, Percy said simply, "Nobody knows. It's often inherited, hence there being very old wizarding families, but even in those lines one might be born with little or no magical ability. Conversely, one with no magical ancestors might be born a - Hermione!"

"A Hermione?" Tom sounded confused, but Percy didn't answer him right away. His eyes were busy looking sternly at the figure that had just entered the room. Ron's friend stepped inside, glancing at him and wincing slightly. She then approached, looking as if caught.

As she should. Percy gave her a brief look of reproach. "Hermione, what do you think you're doing here? You've barely been out of the infirmary half a day."

"Perhaps it's the eyes." Percy had almost forgotten Tom sitting behind him until he cut in with that. Turning, both he and Hermione stared at him.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked, jutting her chin out a bit, eyes wary.

Tom smiled briefly. "An excellent question."

At that, Hermione gave a glance at Percy, but Tom continued. "My name is Tom Riddle." Percy saw Hermione's eyes widen briefly, and he wondered if she were simply taken with his charge. The thought decidedly wasn't pleasant.

Clearing his throat, Percy added, "He's...he was Obliviated by Lockhart." Odd...she got a faint flush on her face as he mentioned that name, along with a wince. But it cleared too quickly for him to say anything.

"I see." Her eyes turned back to Tom, meeting the blue coloring with her steady brown. "That must be dreadful."

"Smart girl," Tom said wryly.

"Do you...attend Hogwarts?" she questioned further.

Again, the faint smile upon his face. "Maybe. Inquisitive and bright. Perhaps you might figure that out for me."

Hermione gave him an odd look at that, or one that seemed peculiar to Percy, as he cut in. "He really isn't supposed to speak of it, Hermione. And you shouldn't be up and about. Did Ron and Harry just let you leave?"

Her eyes leapt to Percy's face at that, and she quickly covered for her friends. "No, they thought I went to lie down..."

"They should have known better, I see." Tom's voice again rang out softly, indifferently. When glanced at, he seemed to be merely making an observational comment.

Again, Hermione was quick to defend. "They have their own worries. And they trust me...we trust each other."

"To break that trust?" Tom smiled, and then smoothed over his statement before she could go on. "I merely jest. Loyal as well. Your friends are lucky. I hope they appreciate it."

An awkward pause seemed to permeate, and then Hermione said in a tone mirroring the pause, "They do."

To Percy then, she gave a brief smile and replied, "Thanks for your concern. I'll just take out a few books to...keep my mind busy. Harry and Ron wouldn't tell me any of the homework I missed. They said I was mad, and I would have to go at least a week before catching up. A week!" It was evident the thought horrified her. She shook her head. "Anyway, I'll just be off..." She turned then to Tom, cocked her head and gave him a hesitant but true smile as well. "Nice to meet you, Tom."

He returned it, saying, "Likewise."

***

Watching Hermione leave, I had the oddest sense inside. Something was nagging...she seemed familiar, in a way. Perhaps I had known a Hermione. Or, possibly I knew her specifically...but that didn't make any sense, since she didn't recognize me. Perhaps I knew of her? None of those possibilities I formulated revealed any memory that might make any of them right or wrong.

I had a throbbing headache again. To Percy, I said, "I think perhaps I would like to lie down now, as well." He didn't answer. Wincingly, I raised my eyes to find him staring off, not seeming to have heard a word I uttered. Raising my voice, I said, "Percy? I'd really like to lay down now." Still he didn't face me. The room felt faintly as if it were spinning, and I quickly sat down. Placing my head in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut, I breathed deeply. Sweat began to form on my brow, little beads that seeped down my fingers placed against my temples. In a voice tinged with strain I heard myself say, "Percy, really, this isn't amusing. I'll just leave -" A sudden spasm wracked my mind. It felt as if the entire muscle vibrated, or clenched repeatedly. What was squeezed out was a flood of anger, an almost panicked sense of being restrained. I desired to leave, and he seemed to be refusing me, not even listening to me, as if I didn't even exist -

Any sense of rationality fled, emotion overflowing as if he had issued me some great blow that knocked a gaping hole through the barricade I had formed inside. My fingers curled, digging fingernails painfully into the stark, sweating, pulsing skin; it was an image that refused to budge, consuming all of my consciousness.

***

Percy had stared at Hermione's retreating back, feeling more discomforted the further the girl retreated. It was more than the reproach he felt at Ron for allowing his friend to be up and about after her ordeal. No, it was rather something Tom had said, or did, that was now nagging at him. Percy couldn't quite place it; Tom hadn't said anything rude or done anything intrusive to the girl. But still, as he so often felt around Tom, was a sense that he was missing something. The possibility that Tom was missing it as well, having lost his memory, brought only marginal comfort.

Percy heard a faint voice beside him, little more than a breath of air. He frowned, suspecting it was Riddle...and he allowed himself a long moment before turning around. He hadn't heard what the boy had said, but - baring catastrophe - Percy would have preferred to remain lost in his own thoughts, trying to find some path through the murkiness that pervaded his mind of late.

But, that wasn't what he'd promised the Headmaster. Briefly feeling a flash of disappointment in himself, Percy sighed and began to turn when he heard Tom speaking again. It was low but fast, raspy as if his throat was constricted, the words jumbling together so deciphering a coherent sentence wasn't possible. Still, what Percy did hear flew at him like a brick, hammering through his chest.

"Muggles did it...deserved...Mudblood..."

Percy felt every drop of blood drain from his face, his chest chilling as his heart squeezed and beat rapidly. Shock was his first reaction upon hearing that word cross Tom's lips. Reason tried to break through, logic saying that Tom was simply having a fit of memory, and had spat the word out. From the appearance of Tom, it seemed most likely...his face was almost gray, his eyes glazed through his tensed fingers as his entire body shook. He seemed almost helpless, but still it took Percy a moment before reaching out to him. He did so gingerly, hesitantly, gripping the boy's shoulders as he stared into his eyes, calling his name. The blue he met was dulled and unresponsive, but swirling with emotion that made Percy almost wish he could back up again.