Chapter Text
Somewhere off in the deep forests Albania, after years of embodying a snake, Voldemort used up the last of his energy, forcing him back to the wraith-like being. Then out of nowhere, something pushing and pulled him in six different directions, and then he was sent whirling.
Pain hit Harry like never before, worse than getting hit by Aunt Petunia's burning hot frying pan; it felt like his head was splitting apart. Harry curled into himself, clutching his forehead, trying not to cry out in fear of attracting attention from his sleeping relatives. Trying to distract himself, he thought about the day.
It had been Dudley's tenth birthday, and Harry had accidentally stepped on Ripper's paw. He was so scared when the dog started biting and chasing him, and Aunt Marge did nothing about it, she actually kind of looked happy to see him running around the garden trying to get away from her evil dog. He ended up climbing a tree and sitting there till past midnight with the sounds of vicious barking and Dudley's laughter ringing in his ears.
Harry didn't understand Aunt Marge, she was always either really mean to him or really nice.
Like one year from Christmas, she was really lovely and gave him dog biscuits as a present, he was surprised to see a gift, his Aunt and Uncle didn't give him anything most of the time. But he was confused about getting things for a dog, even his teachers didn't give him dog treats, they called him stupid, yes, but they never thought he was a dog. He still ate the biscuits, though, and they tasted delicious, especially after a long day of chores without anything to eat for a week.
But she could be really mean like on Dudley's fifth birthday party. He had been sent to his cupboard after people started complaining about him. He had been so happy when he was winning in musical statues, but then Aunt Marge hit him in the shins because he almost beat Dudley. He mentally pouted at the unfairness, but as he reflected, it was probably a good thing that Dudley won, he was better than Harry anyway. Harry was just a Freak.
Another pang of pain shook through his head, and it felt like something was trying to get out of him. It was trying to pull and rip out of him. Then suddenly, it pushed back into him, and there was a soft unnoticeable thud beside him.
Everything went black.
Harry woke up with the strangest feeling of someone gently shaking him. Slowly he opened his eyes to meet a boy about his age with calming brown eyes sitting next to him in his cupboard. He sat up in alarm, staring at the boy.
Harry started panicking and whispering out in quick, hushed tones, "what another person doing here! Oh no no no, Freak gonna be in so much trouble! Freak sorry. A Freak is never allowed to bring people, only normal people can do that! Freak can't do that! Freak sorry. What gonna happen to Freak, what gonna happen to new boy. Freak no wanna hurt anyone! Freak sorry. Freak no do that! Freak a Freak so he no know! Freak sorry. What if they hurt boy, why is the boy not yelling Freak! Freak messed up! Freak sorry, Freak sorry, Freak sorry. Sorry. So Sorry."
It was strange, touching the boy, in Tom's opinion, felt like the most natural and pleasant thing to do, like breathing fresh air for the first time, but still somehow better. When the little boy finally woke up, he had bolted upright and started shaking. Now observing the boy, it looked like he was on the verge of passing out. He was barely breathing properly and kept repeating something that sounded like "freak" and "sorry," so Tom did the only thing that felt right.
He pulled the trembling boy into his arms and started rocking him like Martha, and some of the other volunteers did to the younger kids at the orphanage during a long raid. Tom hushed the boy, repeatedly telling him that everything was fine. He never thought he would ever be in this situation, where someone willingly wanted to touch him, to feel comfort from him. The boy pulled back and looked at him, wide-eyed as if no one ever held him before. A slow approach would be best then, Tom thought.
"Hey there, you alright now?" Tom said soothingly, running a hand through the boys' hair in a comforting manner.
Taking a moment to recollect himself, Harry gulped and stared into the endless, calming, caring, deep brown of the other boys' eyes. Even in the dark, they had this unnatural shine to them, like they knew everything Harry was feeling.
"I... I. yes.." Harry paused, licking his chapped lips before asking, "Who are you? and why here…" waving his arms, which were placed on the other boys' shoulders, around to imply his cupboard. Before turning back to look at those beautiful dark volcanic eyes.
Tom took a second to admire the expressive, yet slightly dull green eyes, before eloquently saying, "I am Tom Riddle, it is a pleasure to meet you, and I'm not quite sure how I got here, nevertheless, you are?"
"I.. um.. am Harry Potter," Harry's quiet, but still slightly panicked voice replied.
At the sound of the name, a shock ran through Tom's mind. That name seemed so familiar yet far away and unbelievably horrid sounding. Tom tried to focus on anything other than the strange flashes of colorless images that flew across his mind, of the intense hatred that name held around it 'Harry Potter' hatred and fear.
As Tom was lost in his thoughts, Harry grew restless and wary in Tom's rigid hold. He was having a hard time breathing, he must have broken a rib or two, and his arm still hung limp next to him, but that wasn't that bad Harry thought to himself, he had been through worse, his arm will most likely be fine tomorrow, but right now Tom was scaring him because it was like he had just frozen. Taking sallow breathes, Harry finally finding the courage, spoke up and asked, "what's wrong Tom?"
Snapping out of his morbid thoughts, Tom concentrates on the boy in front of him. As he looked upon his friend Tom realized how out of breath he sounded, he probably had a broken rib Tom thought angrily. No one was allowed to hurt his new friend.
"I don't like that name," Tom whispered. Harry Potter, it was a seemingly ordinary name, but in his subconscious mind, he knew that those cursed words ruined his life.
A dark silence had filled the room.
"Um, that's okay you can call me Freak…Boy." Replied Harry's timid voice. He didn't quite like that name, but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always called him that, and sometimes Aunt Marge calls him by his last name too. If Tom didn't like his school name, he could always call him Freak, even though it still sounded like an insult to him, but if Tom wanted that then it was alright, Harry mentally nodded his head.
"No, it's alright I'll call you by your given name… Harry." Tom gently took Harry's face in his hands, cupping a bruising area, feeling its warmth and observing a quick winch form on Harry's adorable little face, a recent one apparently Tom mused.
At the sound of his name, Harry's breath hitched. It sounded so right and enchanting when Tom said his name, it was different from how the teachers and other students called his name at school. Harry, with a pleasant smile, finally looked up to meet Tom's eyes, which widened when Tom saw his small but sincere smile.
Tom wasn't smiling though. He had a little frown on his face. "Are you hurting anywhere Harry?"
"No, no no… I'm fine Tom," Harry wheezed out. He did want to scare off his friend he just made because of any problems he might have.
Tom gave him a hard look.
"Tell the truth Harry." Tom would not take any excuses especially if his friend seemed to be hurting. He always takes care of things that are his, and he knows this new boy was his.
Harry whimpered at the command but complied with a quick nod and moved out of Tom's embrace.
"It's kinda hard to breathe, and I can't really feel my arm anymore, but it's okay, I'm a big boy, and I can handle it!" His voice was slowly rising, trying to convince Tom that he was strong and that it didn't hurt that much, because it didn't he just couldn't make any quick movements and his arm didn't really work, but it was okay, and Tom needed to understand that he was okay.
"You should have told be earlier Harry, we could have fixed this," Tom signed and placed his hand to Harry's side.
Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Tom let warmth travel through his body and move to center on his hand, to his fingers and then into Harry. His special powers still worked here, and if he concentrated hard enough…
Harry gasped as he felt an energetic bundle of heat go through his lungs, and suddenly, he could breathe so much easier, better than he had ever been able to breathe before, it seemed impossible.
"What did you do Tom!?" Harry questioned looked astonished.
Tom smiled, looking charming and sly as ever, "my secret powers, my dear Harry."
Now Harry was smiling too. He couldn't believe it, his new friend was remarkable, it was like Tom was his superhero. But it kind of reminded Harry of himself, but not himself, Tom's too amazing to be like him. But if Tom hadn't healed him, it would be fine. After all, he would wake up without any problems, and Aunt Petunia would shriek at him for being unnatural and such a Freak because that's what he was.
It reminded him of the 'm' word. But he knew that he was wrong. It couldn't be that it wasn't real. But what if it was.
"Tom did you just use the 'm' word on me?" He needs to know, what if his relatives were wrong what if it was real?
"What's the 'm' word Harry?" Tom questions. His new friend always talked to him in such strange code. What did he mean the 'm' word, none of the bad adult words started with a 'm'.
"Magic." The awe apparent in Harry's whisper, yet it was tinted with uncertainty.
Tom was frozen again. He had a strange feeling of his head getting too full, and certain words trigger a memory buried deep in his mind. 'Magic' somehow brought up scenes of crowded shops, an enormous castle with moving stairs and so much food that suddenly appears and overflows his plate, and bright, powerful flames that emanated from something in his hand.
"I think you're right Harry, it just might be magic that I just did." Tom muses to himself, still starstruck on the images that passed through his mind's eye. It was like he had seen it all, but he knew for a fact he hadn't. Like an elaborate fever dream, but it seemed so much more real than he wanted.
Eyes shining extremely bright, Harry excitedly replied, "then I think I can do it too Tom."
That snapped Tom out of the scene with all the food you could eat, from the biggest beef roast at dinner to the finest coffee and tea for breakfast.
Was his friend like him too? Was he special? He needs to make sure… "How do you know Harry?"
"I once turned my schoolteacher's hair blue, and it was so funny the whole class was laughing at her." Harry recalled with a small smile.
Then he pouted, "She was being so mean to me Tom, you know maths is my favorite subject, and I always do all of Dudley's homework because he's so lazy, and so we have the same answers, but the teachers mark mine wrong and tell me that I'm stupid and I cheated, but I didn't Tom. And and one time when Dudley and his gang was chasing me, I teleported to the roof. Like I was on the ground for one second then on the roof Tom, and the teachers were so so so mad, but it was so cool."
It was funny to see Harry rant like this, but it proved that he did have the special powers like he did, and he seemed very strong too, but he just struggled to control them.
"Hmmm, that's great Harry, but it seems late. We should sleep," Tom said in a calming quiet manor, already lulling a worn-out Harry to sleep. Tom didn't want to deprive his new friend of anything, and it did seem particularly late. Tom also had plans to leave this horrid place that he found himself in, it just seemed too small for a person to live in. But those were plans for the morning.
With tired eyes and a huge smile on his face, Harry yawned and settled himself in the bundled of old blankets and cradled himself in Tom's arms.
"Okay... Tom," Harry held his friend close, afraid he might lose him.
When Harry's soft breathing finally evened out, Tom took more time to look around the room he found himself in.
In the dim light, he didn't see the big rigid words written on the wall, but now with some light passing from the vents, he read in what seems like blood or hopefully red crayons the large crooked letters, 'Harry’s Room'.
This place just seemed to get worse and worse the longer he stayed. Even the bed, if he could call it a bed, it appeared to look more like a bunch of uselessly thin sheets without a pillow in sight. This was probably worse than the orphanage, at least there he had his own room with a bed and wardrobe.
What was his friend even wearing? Rags… Probably.
They couldn't stay here. They need to leave to that vision of the castle or at least someplace that could feed and clothe them better, this was just atrocious.
He would not stand for his friend or himself living in these conditions.
But for now, there wasn't much for him to do, sleep was the best option, then tomorrow they would leave.
Accepting that conclusion, Tom tucked himself next to Harry and closed his eyes, already plotting multiple strategies for their escape tomorrow.