Chasing Harry

Chapter 10: Unbroken

His sleep was troubled.

He couldn't erase the vision of Tom in his mind--he was suffering, and Harry felt helpless merely staying here, cocooned in his safe world that was Hogwarts. He lay in a limbo between dreams and reality, neither asleep nor awake, and when he stood from his bed as the sun rose, he felt tired--like he had weathered more pain than his usual Quidditch practices employed.

But still, he hesitated. It could have been just a dream.

He stayed awake for almost an hour after that, trying to see if his scar would hurt some more. But it no longer stung, and Harry soon lost himself back to his dreams.

***

Draco stepped onto the corridor quietly, his thick socks and slippers muffling his footsteps. He was worried. He had not seen Tom since yesterday and he wasn't happy with the new house-elf's excuses saying that the Young Master Riddle had gone with Master Malfoy.

Normally, Draco wouldn't have been worried about his father as Lucius was in the habit of leaving for days and weeks without even warning them until later. But Tom? Why would his father bring Tom with him? He squashed the germ of suspicion that threatened to grow in his mind the instant he realized what he was thinking. No, his father would never do that. He would never lead Tom to danger. He promised.

Besides, Draco had this feeling that Tom wasn't far. And that Lucius was nearby too.

He entered Tom's bedroom. There should be something here that he left. A note, perhaps? He had known Tom for only a few months but it was enough to know that the boy was not the type to flee without warning.

His eyes landed on the suitcase beside the bed. Tom had not finished unpacking yet. True to form, he had refused to have the house-elf unpack for him, preferring to arrange his things himself. He couldn't help but smile a bit. They had been having too much fun for him to unpack. Draco hesitated before opening the latch. He didn't like to mess with his friend's personal effects, but Tom had been missing for more than a day. Surely, this was enough reason to search among his things for a clue or anything that might point to where he may be right now.

But after a few minutes, he still had nothing. Aside from his clothes and a few books and school things, there wasn't anything suspicious in Tom's suitcase. Draco glanced up and saw the box on the bed. He couldn't remember Tom bringing a box with him... Oh yes! This was the package delivered by the owl just before they left school. But from whom?

Carefully, Draco opened the box and took out its contents. Bells? Who would give Tom bells for Christmas? As far as he knew, the only friends the other boy had were the Slytherins, and they sure wouldn't give him bells. He took the card out of the envelope and read what it said.

A few seconds later, the card fell from Draco's shocked fingers. [Hang it somewhere where it'll be free.] Tom was still communicating with him? Of course he was! Those two had been rather close acquaintances before. But that was before, right?

[And think of me every time you listen.] What had passed between them? He couldn't help but wonder. Was it something special? So secret that Tom would not even mention his name in the months that they had been roommates at Slytherin.

[Merry Christmas!] And then there were those looks... those stray glances that Draco had caught him making over the Great Hall that day long ago. They were never repeated, and he had almost forgotten them. Until this moment.

Why was he upset over a simple present? [Harry.] He had picked up the card again, only now, it was rumpled--squashed savagely inside his palm. He knew why he was upset. Of course, it was not something he could easily say out loud to the others, his family, or even to Tom himself. It was his fault; he had been too weak then. But it was a weakness he had wilfully participated in.

He tipped the box over carelessly, letting the tiny crafted bells spill onto the sheets with their chains. It was funny how such an innocent-looking thing almost made him forget the real reason why he was here.

***

"Harry, how was your sleep?" Ron suddenly asked during breakfast the next day. Ginny's spoon stopped on its way to her mouth.

"Me? Fine, fine," Harry answered. "Why'd you ask?"

"Nothing." Ron shook his head. "I just thought I heard you make some noise some time last night only I was just too sleepy to get up."

"It was just a nightmare." Harry dismissed it with a wave. It wouldn't do to worry his friend with tales of his scar that he wasn't even sure were true. Knowing Ron, he'd probably panic and insist upon telling Dumbledore, especially now that Hermione wasn't around to knock some sense into the both of them. It would be too much trouble for a nightmare.

"It must have been some nightmare. You yelled loudly enough to wake me up, and God knows it takes a lot to do that," Ron chuckled.

"Um, yeah, it was pretty intense." He quickly took a huge bite off his breakfast muffin to keep Ron from asking any more questions. Until the end of the war, Harry never found it comfortable to discuss this unwanted link that he had with the Dark Lord, no matter how valuable it had been for their side. It was just too strange, for him at least.

Later, as Harry stepped into the boy's bathroom near the Transfigurations classroom, he felt his forehead burn once more. It was quick, quicker than last night. But now that he was awake, he recognized the unmistakable sign of pain. He rushed to the mirror and stared at his reflection, breathing deeply. With shaking fingers, he pushed the hair on his forehead aside and revealed his scar.

It's impossible! Why would it hurt now? I killed him! I killed Voldemort! Tom could not possibly send out these signs. Or could he?

But the puckered skin merely stayed there, silent. He hated this state--his hesitation. Somehow, he had to do something. Then, in a sudden moment of clarity, Harry knew what he had to do.

***

"Dobby?" he called out in the kitchens. The light was rather dim, and it was very cold in the halls beneath the main floors of the castle. Where were the house-elves?

"Harry Potter?"

Harry jumped in surprise and glanced down only to find Dobby staring up at him with the same adoring look that had never left his face from the moment Harry freed him from the Malfoys. Harry smiled in relief as he knelt on one knee and gently placed his hands over Dobby's thin shoulders.

"Dobby, I'm going to do something very important... and I need you to come with me," he said seriously.

The house-elf started. "Yes, yes," he nodded eagerly. "Dobby will go wherever Harry Potter asks him to. But where is Harry Potter going?"

With a determined set in his jaw, Harry declared, loud enough for only Dobby to hear, "To rescue a friend."

***

"Over here!" Dobby pointed as they neared a small clearing in forest they had been flying over the past hour. "We can land here. It's safe."

Harry squinted and looked at the distant figure of Malfoy Manor. The sun was on its last minutes of glory, and darkness was coming hard and fast over the area. He had waited until it was safe to leave the school without being noticed. "Are you sure, Dobby? The Manor is still quite far."

"We can't fly over the Manor grounds. It's dangerous," Dobby answered anxiously. "Harry Potter will be better off walking."

"Well, if you say so." Harry cast a diminishing charm on his Firebolt and pocketed the miniature broomstick. "We better start walking fast."

Their short journey was mostly silent, with Dobby leading the way. They travelled fast over the forest grounds, as the house-elf seemed to have mastered every inch of the Malfoys' property. There was hardly any light left and Harry could barely see his way as the thick evergreens blocked the moonlight. But Dobby would not allow him to cast a light charm, saying that they would surely be caught.

Harry had told Dobby earlier of his decision to take Tom away from Malfoy Manor, as he believed that either Lucius or Draco, or even both, had done something to harm him. Though not entirely convinced that Tom was indeed in danger, Dobby agreed to help Harry by leading him to the Manor undetected, with the stipulation that he won't be made to enter the Manor itself. Apparently, freed house-elves didn't enter their former master's homes, believing that they'd be cursed if they did. Harry had agreed, as he didn't want to put anyone else in danger. Knowing where Malfoy lived and getting there was good enough for him.

"We're here," Dobby whispered. They were crouched among some thick, bald bushes, facing a tall, blank stone wall about six feet away. "There's a door if you walk right straight to the right. It's small, house-elf size, and looks exactly like a part of the wall. Knock on the fifth stone from the ground, eighth from the corner and it'll open. It leads to the kitchens. Just look for the stairs that'll take you to the main rooms."

"Thanks, Dobby." Harry took out his Invisibility cloak. "I wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

"Dobby has to go now." The little elf was looking a little pale, and was starting to act a little fidgety. Considering what he might have seen during his service with the Malfoys, Harry thought that Dobby's fear was justified. "Good luck, Harry Potter." And with a click of his fingers, Dobby was gone.

Harry took a deep breath, covered himself with his Invisibility Cloak, and stood from the bushes. The night was bright the grounds, or at least what he saw of it, was pretty clear. There was no one lurking about to see him. Still he kept his cloak tight around him and stayed close to the wall. The sheer size of this wing was amazing, and Harry could only imagine how big the whole Manor was, with all its gardens and rooms.

He reached the corner and started counting the stone bricks. Finding the one Dobby described, Harry gave it a hard knock and watched the opening appear before his eyes, much like the wall behind the Leakey Cauldron. The door was indeed small, for it reached only to his waist. And, bending down quickly, Harry disappeared into the Malfoys' kitchens.

***

"Draco?"

Draco didn't reply. He just glanced at his father for a second before continuing to stare blankly at the wall opposite his bed.

"I was looking for you."

He laughed bitterly. "That's funny. You see, I was looking for you." He looked at Lucius sullenly. "Where is Tom?"

"Why ask me?" Lucius Malfoy raised his brows.

"You lied, Father." Draco's tone didn't even change. "You said you'd see what you can do to help him, when in fact, it was you who wanted me to be involved."

"I didn't at first." Lucius sat on the bed and tried to touch Draco's arm. His son jerked away roughly. "I understand how you feel, but you must also understand where I'm coming from."

"You just want the past to repeat itself again. Aren't you satisfied with what we have right now?" He raised himself into a sitting position and looked at Lucius in the eye. "What if it ends up worse this time? You know how lucky we are that nothing worse happened aside from your brief vacation in Azkaban."

"That's exactly the reason why I'm doing this." Lucius grasped Draco's wrists tightly. "We want to mend that mistake. We failed, Draco, and look where it got us--almost everyone on our side is either dead or in prison. With Tom here, we have a chance to succeed." A fanatical light glowed in his eyes. "Our Lord came back for a reason."

Draco looked away. "Don't include me in your ridiculous plans."

"I'm not forcing you to." His voice calm once more, Lucius released his son. "I only expect one thing from you," a warning tone entered his voice, "don't try to stand in our way." Lucius got up and walked to the door.

He didn't waste his breath trying to argue. "I want you to promise me one thing..." Draco said before his father disappeared into the hall.

"And that is?"

"I don't want him hurt."

Lucius blinked. "We won't let him suffer more than he can take," he said with finality before leaving and closing the door behind him.

Draco sighed. He knew that was the best promise that he could get from his father. He lay back on the bed staring at something hanging from his four-poster bed. Angrily, he kicked at it and savoured the small feeling of satisfaction as he watched the bells fall to the floor.

***

Harry tried to walk as quietly as possible. He had not encountered anyone so far in the large house ever since he entered it, not even a house-elf. It was hard to believe, but it was highly possible that no one but the Malfoys and a few servants lived here in this sprawling place. Ron would consider it an extravagant waste of space, especially since The Burrow could easily fit into one of the Manor's spacious halls.

He tightened his Invisibility Cloak against him. In spite of his relative relief that he hasn't been caught yet, he wasn't any nearer to finding Tom. In the past few minutes, Harry had started to feel ridiculous--flying into enemy territory all alone impulsively. What if he had been wrong all the time and Tom wasn't even hurt? Only silence met his question.

Just when he was feeling particularly lost, Harry heard the distant sound of footsteps. It seemed to be getting nearer. For a moment, he panicked, his eyes automatically looking for a place to hide as his hand groped for his wand. Then he remembered... he was invisible. Finding a dark space in the wall, Harry tried to make himself as small as possible and held his breath as Lucius Malfoy came into view.

The lord of Malfoy Manor walked purposely, his eyes directed straight ahead. He passed Harry without sensing his presence and turned a corner. Acting instinctively, Harry followed him.

***

The pain would not disappear.

Sometimes, it dissolved into a lingering ache, his body throbbing dully as he imagined the blood seeping slowly out of his wounds. But on moments when he was strong enough to raise his arm, Tom ran his hands through his skin and found it smooth--unbroken.

It was strange, this pain. There were moments when he could barely feel it. But most of the time, it was sharp, so much that it overpowered his strength and sent his slipping into unconsciousness just so he'd stop feeling it. But it didn't end there. Visions, bloody scenes of the past haunted his sleep. The cries of the dying tortured him, until Tom found that he much preferred to stay awake and weather the pain.

He didn't remember what time it was, or even what day it was. It seemed like forever since he saw Lucius approach him in the library. The minutes blurred together since then and each second stretched into one long symphony of pain.

Flashes of the blade interrupted his sleep, and he would wake, gasping... and find nothing. He was alone. He had thought it would never end--the torture. Just thinking of what took place made the bile rise in his throat, only he was too weak to actually sit up and vomit. He was too weak to do anything. It was much better to just sleep and hope that the nightmares would leave him alone.

He closed his eyes.

And when he opened them an eternity later, he saw Harry Potter.

***

"Tom!" Harry whispered urgently. He tried to hide it, but he was horrified with what he found.

He had followed Lucius out of the Manor, managing to stay a safe distance away yet keeping the blond man in sight. It was difficult, for he knew that Lucius Malfoy wasn't a fool and would surely hear the slightest noise he made. He followed him all the way outside, past the moonlit frozen ground, and entered the forest he had left less than an hour ago. Harry had breathed easier, for the trees and the forest noise served as sufficient cover. He just had to watch his step more carefully as the snow made the uneven ground a lot more slippery than usual.

He had watched Lucius meet a man outside a dilapidated-looking wooden hut. He watched them confer for a few minutes, their voices too low for him to hear. But there was an overall urgent look with the way they stood. The tall, dark-haired man threw his hands in the air and gestured to the hut angrily as they argued. But Lucius seemed to have won as the other gave up and followed him back to the Manor. Harry stayed exactly where he was hiding, for he had a hunch about that hut. He let the minutes pass, and when he was sure that the two men were safely far from him, he stealthily approached the small dwelling and opened the door.

***

"Harry?" Tom whispered weakly.

The face blurred in front of him. He must be dreaming. Yes, he was. Harry couldn't possibly be here in this hellhole. The illusion's green eyes widened, and the mouth opened, saying soundless words that didn't reach his ears. Tom blinked tiredly. He must be sicker than he thought, hallucinating about the Gryffindor.

Then he felt hands on his shoulders, covering his half-exposed body from the cold.

"We have to get you out of here!" Harry said. He was scared and very much alarmed with Tom's condition. The Slytherin was naked, that much could be seen, and he seemed to have lost so much weight since he had last seen him a few days ago. There were deep, dark circles under Tom's eyes and he seemed to be paler than normal--as if he had lost a lot of blood. That much he observed in the dim light. He wondered if there were more injuries where he couldn't see. Harry felt a surge of anger as he thought about what could possibly have happened to reduce Tom Riddle to this pathetic creature. The boy could barely sit, much less stand and run away from this place.

"Harry?" Tom repeated, blinking. Was this really a dream? The Harry he saw forced him up, wrapped the blanket around his body, and supported him as he stood. "Is this really you?"

"Yes, Tom," Harry answered. He strained with Tom's weight, as the other boy was much taller and heavier than him. Harry pulled Tom away from the bed. "We have to get out of here. Can you walk?"

Tom started to shake his head, then changed his mind and nodded. "Yes, yes, I can." His legs felt like rubber beneath him but he understood the urgency of the situation. Somehow, Harry had found him and was here to help him escape. He couldn't act like a weakling now. Gathering all his strength, Tom willed himself to take a step, and then another. He was about to take a third before sheer pain overtook him and he fainted--right into Harry's arms.

"Enervate," Harry roused him worriedly. He could support Tom like this if they stood still. But they had to move. Who knew when Lucius and his fellow Death Eater would be back?

Just when he asked himself that question, the heavy door started to open, and the blond head of Lucius Malfoy appeared. Angry grey eyes stared at Harry. In the space of a second, a horrified Harry saw Lucius' wand rise to point towards them. Simultaneously, he reached for his wand, only to find that it wasn't in his pocket where he had stuffed it in earlier. Just when he thought that he was about to die, from the corner of his eye, he saw Tom raise his arm. The wand was in his hand, and the dark-haired boy was saying something.

Instinctively, Harry tightened his hold on Tom. At the same instant, a flash of green light shot out of Lucius' wand and flew straight at the two joined figures.

Then Harry felt himself falling... Falling far, far down... Into darkness.

***

He thought he was dead.

Harry blinked. Sunlight met his eyes and he winced, squinting as he turned his head away from the glare. He was flat on his back, lying on the ground over some scattered leaves. Leaves? Wasn't it winter?

His left arm stretched out, and he felt someone else beside him. Harry rose slightly, supporting himself with one elbow and stared at Tom in wonder. The other was already awake, and had been watching him the whole time. The same familiar lips smiled, curling with amusement at Harry's awed expression. Crimson eyes met Harry's gaze as Tom pointed a finger above. Harry followed his movement and gaped.

They were in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by trees. From what he saw, the weather seemed to be late summer or very early autumn, as the trees were just turning brown and the branches were still heavy with foliage. A warm-looking cottage stood smack in the middle of this space, and they were both lying just meters from the door.

"Harry," Tom smiled proudly. "Welcome to my home."

TBC