Chapter Text
It probably hadn’t been the smartest thing in the world to say, but Harry revelled in the stunned suspicion on Tom Riddle’s face with a kind of reckless happiness. If he was going to die here, he might as well enjoy as much of it as he could.
The mixed emotions on Riddle’s face warred for a moment. Harry was certain he felt a questing touch in his mind, small and nothing like what he’d half expected, before Riddle replied dryly, “I’m not a fan of liars, Harry. Especially not outrageous ones.”
The wand in Harry’s face inched higher and he swallowed. Admitting he was a horcrux had always been a gamble, not least because there was no way of knowing how much of Voldemort’s plans as a teenager aligned with his current ones. Did he dare go farther?
At this point, Dumbledore was either out of the picture or soon to be. The others were too far away to help and ignorant of his current predicament besides. Distantly, he thought he could hear voices and running footsteps below, but there was no telling to whom they belonged. The diary felt heavy where it rested in his robe pocket.
“Ava-” began Riddle dispassionately.
Harry closed his eyes, casting his memory back to the deep, chilling voice of the basilisk, the slide of the boa constrictor’s scales as it swept past him on its way to freedom, then blurted out, “Are you sure about that? ”
Even listening for it, he wasn’t sure he’d managed Parseltongue until he met Riddle’s astonished eyes, the wand twitching before the tip dipped marginally.
“Impossible,” hissed Riddle.
“Listen,” Harry followed up quickly, pushing his advantage. “I can explain everything once we’re out of here, but if you want to survive and, more importantly, survive Vol-er, him, you need to come with me.”
Riddle narrowed his eyes and brought the wand sharply back up. “Please,” he scoffed, “Don’t forget who you’re-”
There was a sudden burst of noise like a minor explosion in the corridor below them. Several of the spindly metal instruments rattled in their settings and some of the portraits - who Harry suddenly realized had been watching them avidly - cried out. Riddle’s attention darted away and Harry used the distraction to his advantage, hoping against hope his friends were okay.
Riddle grunted when he hit the floor then again when Harry slammed on top of him. A short scuffle ensued for dominance over Harry’s wand, during which Harry could hear the portraits urging him on and several shouts and incantations coming from downstairs. Just as he’d managed to use his right hand to scrabble at Riddle’s closed fingers, his left holding down the wrist and his shoulder pinning him by the throat, Riddle’s entire body bucked at the same time that he flung the wand into a far corner of the room.
Harry tried to use the momentum of the sudden roll he was forced into to disengage from the other boy, but Riddle managed to pin him after a few rough moments. Opening his mouth to attempt another distraction, he was wholly unprepared for Riddle to interrupt him with his own mouth.
For a moment, the unexpected action caused Harry to freeze up completely. Then he was struggling with a fear he hadn’t known before, twisting his wrists in Riddle’s grasp and scrambling around to try to bring up his knees. He breathed frantically through his nose, wondering what the hell had come over the other boy.
It was one of the oddest kisses he’d ever had, if you could call it that. Riddle wasn’t moving his mouth much at all, just keeping Harry’s open as much as possible and - was he trying to suffocate him? It was like he was trying to get all of the air in Harry’s lungs out through his mouth, like the world’s most intimate vacuum.
Finally, with a terrific effort, Harry managed to wrench his mouth away, sucking in great gulps of air. “What?” he spluttered, confused and terrified.
Riddle didn’t try again, merely held Harry down for a moment before he glanced back at the door, listening to the footsteps now thundering up the stairs.
Distantly, Harry took in his expression of extreme frustration, his lip curling minutely, before he rolled completely off of Harry in the direction of the flung wand. Despite his shock, Harry scrambled up, determined to get to the wand first.
Before he’d even taken a step, however, the door burst open behind him and Harry whirled at the sound of Ron’s shout. “Harry, catch!” Without thinking, Harry plucked the Gryffindor tie out of the air then looked up in confusion, Riddle briefly forgotten.
“It’s a Portkey! You’ve got five seconds!” shouted Ginny as she slammed the door behind Hermione and Malfoy. Without a second thought, Harry whirled and ran straight at Riddle, who had just managed to pluck the wand from the floor.
Harry’s momentum was such that he was able to momentarily pin Riddle between himself and a bookcase, Riddle’s wand hand splayed wide on the shelf. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ron picking something up off the desk and heard Hermione casting a spell at the closed door.
“Get over here!” Harry yelled at the others, flinging the end of the tie toward them as best he could. Riddle squirmed and managed to get the wand pointed directly at Harry’s head before he felt the familiar tug in his naval that meant the Portkey had worked.
Hoping the others had managed to grab on, Harry sped onward in a whirl of color and sound, his shoulders banging against Tom Riddle’s.