Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Dangerous2 Reviews
I am Lord Voldemort. The words burned into Harry's skull like a searing hot iron. The most powerful wizard in centuries, like it or not, was back.
Oh, and another important thing – this fic will not have any particular pairing, or at least not in the foreseeable future. That is not to say that relationships are totally non-existent, but the subject will mainly be avoided so as to one, make my life easier, and two, avoid angering all of the rabid shippers out there. If you were hoping to see some of that sort of action, I am afraid that you will be mainly disappointed.
Those things being said, let us return to the story.
"Hello again, Harry." Harry wrestled himself out of the elder student's grip and whipped around, pulling his wand out in the process. Behind him, the door to the empty classroom closed keeping them away from prying eyes. In front of him now stood a boy of medium to tall height with black hair, handsome features, and green eyes remarkably similar to his own. The Slytherin crest pinned proudly to his robes stood out to Harry quite distinctively.
"What the hell do you think you're doing you asshole?" Harry had never really been one for cursing, but quite frankly he was a little bit nervous. This boy had a dangerous look to him and Harry didn't really think it wise to cross him... but of course his big mouth had started running without conscious thought. "You better open this effing door or I swear..." Suddenly Harry had a vision of a boy identicial to the one in front of him standing in front of a young Albus Dumbledore, telling him that he did not, in fact, have anything to tell the powerful wizard. "Hang on a sec... I know you." Eyes narrowing slightly in concentration and confusion, he cocked his head. "You're Tom Riddle! From the diary!" Tom chuckled, a tad more darkly than Harry was comfortable with.
"Well spotted Harry. I am indeed Tom Riddle."
"I... how are you here? Better yet, why the hell did you pull me into the classroom? And shouldn't you be nearly sixty years old?"
"As to your first question, quite easily. To the second and third... Well I think, dear Harry, that it is time for you to... remember." Harry had no time to react as Tom whipped out his wand and flicked it at him. A beam of bright white light struck him in the forehead and he fell to his knees, blinded. It was as if a barrier had been removed from his mind, and a rush of memories flooded back into him. Accompanying this unpleasant mental sensation came the entirely physical sensation of an almost petrifying locking of his limbs, although his neck was largely free of the effect. Unable to stand, he merely glared up at the green-eyed boy with as much malice as he could muster.
"You obliviated me." Harry hissed malevolently.
"Yes. That is true." There was silence for a moment before Harry decided to continue on the same note as their last conversation.
"I will never be your apprentice." Referring to the last statement the dark lord had made before obliviating him. Tom, or rather, Voldemort shook his head in mock disappointment, clicking his tongue.
"So you say Harry, but I have to wonder how much you enjoy being helpless. Unable to protect yourself from more skilled wizards, such as myself, Severus Snape, Dumbledore... The list goes on and on Harry. In fact, I would say a majority of the fourth year students could best you in a duel."
It was true, Harry realized. He was... weak. And what's more, he and Ron had been embracing it. He and Ron that is. Hermione had done nothing but study as hard as was humanly possible. Now, though, he would have given almost anything to be strong. He wanted to show those who doubted him that he was, in fact, quite capable. He wanted to destroy those who threatened his life, and his friends'. In short, he wanted to kick Tom Riddle's ass.
But he wasn't strong. He was nothing more than an average twelve year old boy with an unfortunate bad luck and a penchant for getting into dangerous situations. What was the most advanced spell he knew? Expelliarmus. That wouldn't catch even a first year off guard, and it was easily blocked and even more easily dodged. He knew that he wasn't as smart as Hermione, but to tell the truth his meager spell repertoire and lack of any true skill was highly disappointing. He knew he could do better.
Tom Riddle (using a judicious amount of legilimency) saw Harry's own disappointment in himself and capitalized on it.
"Yes Harry. I could help you on your way to greatness. I could make you strong... but only if you let me." At this his eyes grew cold. "Otherwise you will merely be an extension of my will... again. The only difference being that this time you will not be allowed free."
"It doesn't look like I have much of a choice now, do I?" He replied bitterly. Voldemort replied with a laugh that made the hackles on his neck rise.
"No, but I am afraid that choices are only for those that are in power. And you, dear Harry, are most certainly not in power."
...Unless I tell Dumbledore. Harry thought. Unfortunately for him, Tom was more than proficient in the mind arts and caught the stray thought.
"And how will you tell people of my existence? The greatest dark lord of all time has come back in the form of a young man in a secret chamber that resides in a girls bathroom of all places. You'll be seen as stupid at best and insane at worst. As powerful as wizards are, they are not known for their logic or acceptance of anything outlandish, no matter the source. You would think that given the incredibility of magic they would be a more accepting group." Both of them knew that Harry was defeated. Averting his eyes, the younger boy gave a resigned sigh.
"Fine. What do you want from me?" Tom crouched down so that he was on eye level with the younger boy. His glacial eyes gave Harry the shivers, who did his best to not look directly into them. For some reason he felt that it was dangerous to look into his eyes, but at the same time they were so mesmerizing... Is this what people felt like when they looked into his own eyes? Harry couldn't deny that their physical features were extremely similar, minus his shaggy hair and clumsy glasses.
"For now I will settle with you merely advancing as much as possible in your studies, though especially transfiguration, defense against the dark arts, and charms. You also need to go into the library and begin learning basic warding and arithmancy. You may more or less ignore herbology and potions, as it has no purpose in my plans for you."
"Your plans." He replied blasély.
"Yes. My plans." Seeing a question on the boy's lips he shushed him hurriedly. "Ahh ah. no questions. Unless you wish to be put under the imperius again? I will gladly do so, although I would prefer to keep you entirely free such influences – I find they interfere from doing your best in, shall we say, real life situations."
Despite his Gryffindor bravery, Harry shook his head, knowing that fighting against Tom's wishes at this point would do him no good. Satisfied, Tom nodded and released his magical hold on the younger boy's muscles. Harry could practically hear his bones cracking from the long time spent on the ground in such an uncomfortable position, but he nevertheless made his way out of the classroom, casting one last wary glance at the dark lord before walking quickly out of the door.
The encounter had only taken five or ten minutes, but the consequences of it would be much further reaching than either wizard realized.
Once he was alone, Tom Riddle smiled darkly before disillusioning himself and walking out the door, intent on finding room and board somewhere in Hogsmead... he had overheard two freckled twins that must have been siblings or at least close relatives of Ginny Weasley talking about Dumbledore's younger brother Aberforth keeping a rather seedy tavern.
And as they say, the best place to hide is right under the enemy's crooked nose.
A/N: I attribute any mistakes in this chapter to the late hour.