Chapter Text
Harry didn’t know how it had started, but he has been having a weird prickling sensation in the back of his throat recently. It was an uncomfortable and heavy feeling, and it hurt to swallow anything. It was harder for him to breathe and he noticed his stamina had been getting worse, but the school nurse wasn’t concerned, so why should he be?
He was a wizard, and the diagnostic spell the nurse had used said nothing other than a sore throat, so there was no issue other than him being dramatic.
He had no reason to worry, right?
Well, that was his thought process until he started coughing up flower petals. He had only been going to the bathroom during class after being excused by the teacher, saying he felt sick. And he did, but instead of puke, flowers appeared in the toilet bowl.
They were red and had quite long petals, but they were absolutely beautiful. They reminded him of Lily’s, like his mom.
He didn’t know if it was supposed to be a prank, but he headed towards the school nurse anyway. He sort of hoped it was a sick form of a magical prank because he had heard of something similar before and he didn’t like the sound of it.
With a hesitant hand, Harry knocked on the door to the nurse's office and entered it once he heard confirmation. He saw the head nurse sitting there, who gave him a patient smile.
‘’Ah, mister Potter. Back already?’’ She was similar to Madam Pomfrey, and Harry always wondered what happened to her before Pomfrey got the position.
‘’Yes, madam.’’ He took a few steps inside and headed over to her, ‘’I have.. okay so, I don’t quite know how to explain this.’’
‘’Take your time, I can wait.’’ Well, the words were reassuring enough, but if it was what Harry thought it was, it really couldn’t wait.
‘’Thank you, um, so, I had this feeling that I had to puke. So I excused myself from Professor Dumbledore class to go to the bathroom, and instead of puking, I coughed up some.. flower petals.’’ He knew it sounded absurd, but from the dark look on the nurse's face it seemed he wasn’t totally speaking nonsense.
‘’Could you describe what the flower petals looked like, dear?’’
‘’Well, it’s red and it kind of looks like a lily. Sort of spidery maybe, and the petals curl inwards from what I saw. There weren’t that many petals, only about six or seven.’’
The nurse sighed, and Harry didn’t know if it was because he was oversharing or if it was because the nurse was worried about him. The latter, he hoped but also didn’t. Maybe it was just because he was over-explaining, then.
The nurse stood up with a heavy expression on her face and pointed towards a nearby bed. ‘’Take a seat, I’ll be right with you.’’
That didn’t sound good, but Harry took a seat anyway. He was starting to feel worried now..
His mind kept crawling back to the same conclusion, about a disease he had learned about in his health class in the muggle world. But it couldn’t be that, because there was no one Harry had a crush on, much less love right now.
He was way too busy with Tom, to stop him from continuing his lifelong plan. To stop him from turning into Voldemort.
But if it wasn’t that, then what could it be?
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice when the nurse came back with a heavy book in her hand. Her eyes held a sad shimmer to it, which was more confusing than anything, yet she smiled at him. ‘’Here are all the lilies, could you point out the one you saw?’’ Harry took the book from her outstretched hands with a nod, fluttering through the pages.
Lilies were beautiful flowers, much like his mother was.
He finally stopped on a flower, the red spider lily. ‘’I think it looked like this.’’ The nurse took a seat next to him, grasping gently at the cover of the book. ‘’The spider lily; a symbol of love, passion, desire, courage and.. death.’’
Harry bit his lip, suddenly feeling very nervous at the sound of her shaky voice. ‘’But why..? I mean, is there a reason that I..?’’
‘’Is there.. anyone you have feelings for? A special girl that comes to mind maybe?’’
‘’No madam.’’ He answered truthfully, there really was no one. Tom didn’t count because that was his mission, and he most certainly wasn’t in love with any of his other Slytherin housemates.
Sensing his hesitation, she spoke again. ‘’If it’s a boy, that’s okay too.’’ Harry choked on his spit, staring at her.
He hadn’t even been thinking about any girls–wait, wasn’t that worse? He had only been thinking about Tom, and technically his housemates but.. he didn’t really talk to them enough to gain feelings for them.
God, he was going crazy. Where was Ginny when you needed her? Oh right, unborn. Her parents didn’t even exist yet. As horrible as it sounded, he never felt that attached to Ginny. He did what felt right, and what was easy for him. It was horrible to use someone for their feelings, but it made him feel loved.
It was a different type of love than he craved, and he didn’t crave romantic love from her.
‘’Mister Potter..?’’
‘’Oh–uhm, sorry. I was lost in thought.’’ She gave him a sad smile, her hand itching to rub his back soothingly. ‘’I can’t think of anyone..’’ Tom.
‘’But it could be either?’’ He nodded, even though he wasn’t sure if he was being truly honest with himself. ‘’Do you know what it might be..?’’
Instead of moving her hands to his back, she grasped his hands, her old and gentle hands on top of his. ‘’My dear boy, have you heard of something called Hanahaki disease?’’
.
.
‘’Yes, madam..’’ Neville had talked about it once, his grandma had suffered from it which was why he had done it for a project, and Harry still remembered some of the details. Most of it was the causes and how to get rid of it, but Harry found it beautiful in a sick and twisted way.
If only that person loved you back, that is.
‘’So then you know..?’’
‘’Can you explain a bit more? I’m a bit hazy on the details.’’
‘’Right,’’ She continued, moving her thumb comfortingly over his hand. ‘’Hanahaki disease happens from one-sided love, or when people think they are experiencing one-sided love. Usually, it’s a very strong form of love. Even more so than a crush, think of an Amortentia potion without actually taking it.’’ That wasn’t reassuring at all.
Noting his expression, she continued. ‘’To get rid of it, you’ll need to confess your feelings to them, and they’ll need to return it. You can’t lie, the flowers will know.’’
‘’..There’s another way right?’’ He held his breath, his heart beating anxiously in his chest. The grim look on the woman's face was scary, he hated it. He felt small again, unknowing.
Afraid.
‘’There’s a surgery you can take, it’s.. taxing on the body. But there are great consequences.’’ He firmly bit his lip, his eyes searching her face for any sort of hope. ‘’You’d be losing your ability to love.’’
.
.
He was going to die.
The thought was something he could accept, if only it had happened from old age, or to protect a loved one. Not from love.. Love healed, love saved, and now, love killed.
And it would kill him.
He didn’t want to lose the ability to love, it made him human. He didn’t want to become–
An image flashed through his mind, Voldemort towering over him in the graveyard, so many years in the future.
He didn’t want to become like him.
But he didn’t want to die.
He didn’t even notice he was struggling to breathe until a gentle hand was carding itself through his hair, sweet murmurs being mumbled into his ear.
‘’It will be okay.’’ She hushed, gently rocking him back and forth as he sobbed. He didn’t know when the tears began, but he couldn’t stop them anymore.
It wouldn’t be– it wouldn’t be okay, he couldn’t do this.
He didn’t even know who he was in love with, how was he supposed to confess? Who would be gullible enough to love him back?
‘’We’ll find them, I promise.’’ He wouldn’t, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be rejected, he didn’t want the pain.
‘’I’ll be there every step of the way.’’ He didn’t want her to be, he wanted to hide. He wanted to crawl back into the cupboard under the stairs, to silently cry as if he was eight years old again when he had just gotten scolded by Aunt Petunia.
‘’You’re such a kind boy, Harry. I bet they’ll accept you.’’ He sobbed louder, the inconsolable feeling in his chest building up.
It was so hard to breathe, he wanted to puke. He knew it wasn’t puke, but he didn’t want to see the flowers; he wouldn’t let himself.
It was clogging his throat, and luckily the school matron noticed it before he could say anything because as soon as she transfigured a bucket for him, he puked out more petals, the taste of blood mingling on his tongue with the petals.
He felt relieved and disgusted all at once, he could finally breathe. He calmed his breathing, but he didn’t dare to open his eyes.
The matron continued rubbing his back, he hiccuped, his throat sore from the petals and from crying. His eyes burned, he wanted to open them and wipe away his tears.
But he didn’t want to see them, he wanted to run from this reality.
He could feel the matron shift beside him, ‘’They’re truly beautiful, Harry.’’ Only now, he noticed, that she had dropped the professionalism. He leaned back into her warmth, clenching his eyes shut. ‘’Can you think of anyone who has spider lilies as their favorite flower?’’ The question made him open his eyes, tiredly wiping at them. He could barely look at them, but the question did make his brain stop panicking for just a moment.
Did he know anyone's favorite flowers?
‘’No.’’ His throat was hoarse, it burned. It burned so much.
The matron grabbed her wand and levitated a cup of water towards him. ‘’Take a sip, boy.’’ He did, nearly choking on the liquid. ‘’Slowly, slowly. Your throat is sore, there you go.’’ She murmured after he had taken a few successful sips.
She took the glass back from him, ‘’Do they remind you of anyone, then?’’
He took a deep breath and looked back at the flowers, albeit a bit bloody, they were beautiful. Beautifully red in color, dangerous. Red like–dangerous like–
He puked again, tears reappearing in his eyes.
He couldn’t do this—he didn’t want to.
It couldn’t be true.
He couldn’t.
It just.. couldn’t.
He didn’t know what to do with himself, but the matron sensed his predicament and only continued to rock him close to her chest, grabbing a tissue out of her pocket to wipe at his mouth.
‘’If you still aren’t sure, you should go ask some people close to you for their favorite flower. Hanahaki will realize this, and your flower will change.’’ He could do that. Yes, that would be easy. He’d just have to ask every single person he talked to on a somewhat regular basis what their favorite flower was, and probably make a laughing stock of him–God that included Tom–but it wouldn’t be Tom, so he didn’t even have to ask.
Something in his expression made her hesitate, and she asked, ‘’I’m guessing you won’t take the surgery, dear?’’
His head shot up, nearly bumping his glasses against her. ‘’No!’’ His volume clearly shocked her, and he lowered his voice apologetically. ‘’Sorry–I can’t. I really, can’t. I just.. can’t live like that.’’
She gently took his glasses off his face, he let her. He trusted her, he trusted her, even without his glasses.
She cleaned his glasses, looking over at him with an understanding and warm gaze. ‘’It’s quite alright. I understand.’’ She put his glasses back on, lovingly messing with his even messier hair. ‘’Please think about it okay? Let’s take a break for today, dear.’’
‘’Thank you, madam.’’ The loving look in her eyes made him feel like crying again, he didn’t know why he was so emotional today. Usually, he coped better with the thought of dying, he thought darkly.
‘’Feel free to call me Malinda.’’ She gently squeezed his shoulder before getting up from the bed. ‘’I’ll call you in sick for the rest of your classes.’’
‘’But–!’’ He couldn’t even finish his sentence, because the matron was already glaring at him with her hands on her hips. ‘’No buts! You deserve a break, you can go looking tomorrow.’’ Seeing that he still wasn’t convinced, she added, ‘’I’ll get a prefect to bring you their notes and I’ll arrange for the elves to serve you a cup of a healthy soup tonight in the dormitory.’’
He was feeling really overwhelmed by all the attention and supposed care she was putting into him, for someone she hadn’t even known longer than the short year since he had ‘’transferred’’ here. ‘’What about the headmaster? Professor Dippet wouldn’t–’’
‘’Oh, that old coot?’’ The distaste in her voice quickly disappeared, smiling apologetically at him. ‘’Don’t worry, if he has any problems with it he can talk to me.’’
He was quiet for a moment but nodded eventually. ‘’Thank you, Miss Malinda.’’
‘’Yes yes, now go on boy. Shoo, shoo.’’ She urged him from the bed, though her words weren’t as kind as they were earlier, it still felt caring.
Malinda didn’t want him in the nurse's office any longer, the bland decoration and lonely feeling would do the boy no good. He needed to be surrounded by people, or at least by things he knew.
Familiarity brings comfort.
Harry left with a pained smile on his face, waving goodbye to Malinda and assuring her once more that he would be alright. His legs felt shaky, and yet he walked onwards.
He didn’t know what to do with himself, he nearly felt sorry for himself. The dormitory was quiet, eerily so. The Slytherin common rooms had a different feeling, way colder than the Gryffindor common rooms. He missed it, he missed sitting in front of the fireplace with his friends and talking all night long.
Without the Slytherins, the common room was even quieter than usual. Everyone would still be in their classes for a few more hours, so he had nothing to do. He had already finished his homework, except for potions, but that didn’t really matter anyway.
It’s not that he was that bad at it, he just hated it. Maybe it was because of his old Professor, but he didn’t exactly get any motivation for it.
The bedroom was even quieter, Harry’s shoddily made bed (he was in a rush that morning) in the corner next to Tom Riddle’s bed, the future dark lord and the current school prefect. At first, he had found waking up next to Tom and even going to sleep in the same room as him absolutely frightening. But it wasn’t long before he realized that Tom played the perfect role model in front of most, and mostly kept to himself unless he was meddling with politics (or his not-so-secret gang).
Tom had been.. unexpected, and more present in his life than he would’ve expected or liked. Tom had long since realized the connection the two shared, and he had uncovered the truth about Harry’s past by using Legilimency on Harry while he was caught off guard. They hadn’t spoken much since, but Tom kept being a constant presence in his life, whether it was forcing himself to be Harry’s partner in class or his duel partner.
It honestly wasn’t as bad as Harry had expected, even after Tom forced himself into Harry’s mind. He kept himself at a respectful distance, and he was a good working partner even if he was exceedingly stubborn and mostly believed his ideas and ways of working were correct, which was extremely frustrating when it came to assignments.
He didn’t even notice how exhausted he had been, slowly slipping in and out of an unconscious state until he finally fell asleep.
His dreams were.. strange.
He knew he was dreaming, he could feel it. And yet, he couldn’t do anything at the same time. He was situated in a flower field, of red lilies to be exact, mixed with a foggy flower he couldn’t recognize.
His vision was fuzzy, but he could make out a figure in the distance. A tall person, their robes hanging on their shoulder, being guided by the wind.
A feeling in his chest pulled him towards this mystery person, desperation clawing through his lungs. He needed to get there, it screamed. And so, he ran.
He ran, he ran as far as his legs would take him. And yet he got nowhere, the figure faded out and left him alone. The desperation clawed at him, nearly beating out of his chest with vigor.
His lungs burned, his throat burned. The desperation was clawing his mind, his soul. He didn’t know why, but it felt like something within him was resisting. It was fighting against something, the flowers maybe?
Harry would’ve thought he’d flinch when he felt a sudden tap on his shoulders, but it calmed him out of his desperation. The figure was there, still as blurry close up as they were from a distance. He couldn’t make out any of their facial features, but he could see a smile through the blur.
The figure held out a hand, one of the disfigured flowers appearing in it.
‘’For me?’’ Harry’s voice was breathy, but he didn’t care.
The figure didn’t say anything and shrugged. So Harry took it.
He woke up startled, his scar itching madly. The door opened just as Harry was about to get up from the bed, and Harry nearly coughed up those wretched flowers stuck in his throat right then and there.
Tom entered the room, not at all surprised to see Harry sitting there. ‘’I heard you’ve been marked sick–’’ Before Harry had the chance to give a snarky remark to interrupt him, it felt like his legs moved all on their own to rush him to the bathroom, heading into one of the stalls and smashing it closed to finally cough up those flowers.
His breath got stuck in his throat, and he could hear uncertain footsteps following him into the bathroom.
‘’Harry?’’ He heard him call out, the concern laced in Tom’s voice made the tears in his eyes sting. He didn’t want this, he hated this. He didn’t want Tom to see him like this, he wanted to hide.
Harry didn’t respond, but when he heard Tom’s footsteps come closer he flushed the toilet just in time because he heard a soft click and the door opened behind him, Tom had probably cast a wandless Alohamora.
Harry sighed in relief and attempted to wipe his mouth with his sleeve, but Tom pulled his arm away from his face and looked at him with a scrutinizing expression. He pulled out a handkerchief, because apparently rich people had those, and dapped the saliva mixed with blood on his chin away.
‘’Stand up, come on.’’ Without even waiting for Harry to attempt to do so, he pulled Harry up to his feet and dragged him to his bed by his wrist. ‘’Lay down, I’m going to get you something.’’ He didn’t leave Harry any room for objections, walking right out the door.
To say Harry was confused would be an understatement. It wasn’t like Tom to be so caring, well, he wasn’t being that caring on the one hand, maybe it was just because he knew that Harry carried a piece of his soul?
Tom soon came back carrying a handful of potions in his arms and set them down one by one on Harry’s nightstand wordlessly before handing one with a blue liquid to Harry.
‘’Drink it.’’ Tom smiled at Harry’s expression, ‘’What? I didn’t poison them, it’s against nausea.’’ He explained, he pointed to the other vials and said, ‘’The light grey ones are stomach protectors since you were bleeding.’’
Harry speechlessly accepted the potion, ‘’Thank you.’’ Tom simply nodded and urged Harry to drink it. Harry unscrewed the cork and smelled it, surprised to smell honey instead of the usual nasty healing smell.
Tom looked quite proud of himself, ‘’I added a scent since I knew you’d be a big baby about it. It’s flavored too.’’ At moments like these, Harry truly wondered where Tom went wrong in life. The man could be nice, even if it was only to make sure Harry took care of Tom’s soul properly.
He was smart enough to create, and yet he used it for evil.
Harry drank the two potions, one after another, and was quite surprised to note that they both tasted exactly the same. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to grow his ego any bigger than it already was, but he was quite impressed. Even if he knew that Tom had probably already seen that based on that prideful glint in his eyes.
Tom took his pocket watch out of his robes before turning his attention back to Harry, ‘’You have two hours before the others come, I’ll entertain them until then. Focus on getting rid of this silly cold, I want you back in class tomorrow. You are a wizard, for Merlin’s sake..’’
‘’Yeah yeah, just leave.’’ Tom gave him a sharp, indescribable look before walking out the door.
Tom was offering his free time for Harry’s sake, which meant that Harry now technically owed a debt to Tom. It was just going to become something for Tom to hold over Harry’s head whenever he said or did something that even remotely went against Tom’s ideals.
But alas, what is done is done. At least Tom had gotten him some potions, not that they would work. It was the thought that counted, he thought with a smile on his face.
Tom had left two more potions of each version, probably one before he went to bed and one more before he went to class in the morning. He’d better drink it later to keep letting Tom mind his own business.
Harry hid the potions in his trunk just in case anyone saw them standing on his nightstand. He didn’t need the entire castle to know that he had a silly little cold, that just happened to be a little deadly.
He sighed and laid back down, only to realize to his dismay that he forgot to ask what Tom’s favorite flower was, not that it would be Tom anyway.
Harry spent his time reading some books he had been itching to read since he was going to die anyway. What a morbid thought it was, but it was better to keep it real with himself, even though he was absolutely terrified. But if he didn’t think about it, it wasn’t going to happen.
He just had to keep repeating that to himself.
Around dinner time, the elves had come to bring him a plate of chicken soup, plenty of bread, and a few cups of tea with heating spells on them, courtesy of Malinda, they had said.
After that, he went back to the bathroom, freshened up and drank his last tea before heading to bed, luckily not having any more accidental flowers show up along the way. Sleep came easy to him this time.
Tom wouldn’t call himself a man with many emotions. Sure, he felt them, but he didn’t feel them in the same caliber as most of his classmates or other adults did.
He had his own things to worry about, a future ahead of him. To capture the wizarding world by using his followers, who were already many steps into the world, and yet didn’t take their opportunities, because they needed a powerful leader with a good head on his shoulders.
And that would be Tom, and it is Tom.
But Tom had been feeling a shift in his perspectives ever since the transfer student joined them, a shift in his focus too. The boy was from the future, and he came back just to stop Tom, but it didn’t end there, no. The boy was powerful, not quite Tom’s level, but he was more so his equal than any other. He spoke Parseltongue, and he was his horcrux. His personal living soul, albeit his soul from the future.
Simply put, Harry Potter was his and would always belong to him in every way, and in every time perk.
Harry is an interesting character because he has quite a mouth on him. He talks back to Tom, he talks back to professors who he doesn’t agree with, he stands up for other students and he is about as booksmart as a rock. All that said, he would be a perfect Gryffindor, and yet he was put in Slytherin. Maybe it had something to do with the dumb hat knowing that Harry is from the future, their so-called ‘’savior.’’
And yet he grew on Tom in some way, he was handy to have around. That way, Tom would know what steps to take and what steps were out of the question, like creating too many horcruxes for example. Three would be a good number, and he wouldn’t look hideous nor go insane. Just the perfect amount to become completely immune to his emotions.
Tom didn’t get sick, and Harry held part of Tom’s soul. Therefore, Harry wasn’t allowed to get sick. What if Harry died of a silly muggle cold? Tom couldn’t allow it, so he extended a helping hand all on his own.
He distracted the Slytherins by throwing a surprise meeting, grilling each of the students on their latest research findings.
All to distract himself, and buy Harry some extra nap time. That should give the Slytherin-wannabe some time to recover.
‘’My lord?’’ Tom hummed, barely paying attention to what Lestrange was trying to tell him. ‘’Have you heard from Potter?’’
He had, but it was always good to get to know more. As long as he didn’t seem too interested, he didn’t want to allude his followers into believing he cared about the boy. ‘’Depends.’’ Lestrange was as eager as ever to flap his mouth, and with the barely counted approval, he did so. ‘’I heard from Rosier that Potter was seen exiting the matron’s office after running out in class earlier.’’ Well, Tom already knew that much. It was a poor choice for Harry to let his weakness show to the other students, but he would scold him about it later.
‘’He overheard something through the door too, something about Hana…–it was some sort of illness. I forgot the name.’’ Tom’s frustration grew, another useless follower of his who couldn’t even spread his so-called gossip properly.
Tom nodded dismissively, glaring at Rosier who was chatting with Malfoy. ‘’Rosier, could you come here for a moment?’’
The tone of his voice got most of the Slytherin's attention, the conversations slowly dying out as they watched Rosier walk up to their lord. ‘’Yes, my lord?’’
‘’I’ve heard you’ve been withholding information?’’
‘’N-No! I haven’t, not at all–!’’ Tom pointed his wand at Rosier's throat, glaring at him. ‘’You’ve been withholding information of one of our very own. Tell me, what did you overhear in the matron's office?’’ Rosier swallowed, his adams apple bobbing against Tom’s wand. ‘’I.. I overheard them talking about some illness, a muggle one probably, seeing as the boy is an obvious half-blood!’’ Tom let the growing irritation on his face show.
From the back of the room, he saw Malfoy stand up and hold his hand up. Tom nodded toward Malfoy, giving him the permission to speak. ‘’Excuse me for asking, my lord. But why are we so concerned about this half-blood?’’ Another spike of irritation flowed through him, it wasn’t like he could tell his lower-than-average followers why the Potter boy was so valued.
That was for Tom alone, his soul.
‘’I thought you were smarter than that, Malfoy.’’ Tom normally called his followers by their first names unless he was mad at them, and it showed.
It showed power.
Malfoy flinched, his gaze turning questioning. ‘’Can’t anyone in here think on their own?’’ Tom spat, glaring at each of his followers. He stood up, keeping his wand on Rosier’s neck. ‘’Potter is a half-blood, carrying a muggle disease. Should we not be concerned with what it will do to us? Or would you rather get infected with a disgusting muggle disease?’’
Tom’s heady glare made his other followers look judgementally at Malfoy, for questioning their Lord's intentions.
‘’I’m so sorry, my lord–’’ Tom held up his hand, immediately silencing him. He turned his attention back on Rosier, twisting his wand in his hand, watching with utter satisfaction at the uncomfortable look on Rosier’s face.
‘’What illness was it, Rosier?’’
‘’It was something with Hanna– I really don’t remember.’’ His panic rose when he saw Tom’s expression shift, that murderous look meant only one thing.. ‘’I’m really sorry–I didn’t hear it properly, please–’’
‘’Crucio.’’ Rosier's screams were heard a second later, a loud thud sounding through the room as he fell to the ground.
Adrenaline coursed through Tom, satisfaction settling into his bones. He loved casting dark spells, he loved the feeling of the magic swirling around him.
He enjoyed it when his followers messed up, he loved punishing them.
What he didn’t love was when they messed up so much that his entire plans were ruined. He would have to punish Rosier more later.
Tom ended up letting Rosier stay under the Cruciatus curse for an entire minute, watching with contempt, looking around his followers to see if anyone wished to object, and get much of the same treatment.
After a minute had passed, Tom ended the curse. Drool was coming out of Rosier’s mouth, his eyes dilated and tear-stricken.
‘’This is what happens when you don’t perform your duties as a Slytherin. Do not disappoint me again.’’
He turned to the rest of the room, putting his wand back into its holder. ‘’That goes for all of you. If any of you get infected with Potter’s muggle disease, we have Rosier here to thank for it because he couldn’t do something as simple as remembering a name.’’ The whispered murmurs and hating glares sent towards Rosier did Tom well, finally some justice.
‘’I don’t want to see any of you speak with him for a month, let him feel what he has done by betraying the Knights. The future of our generation, the future of the wizarding world.’’
Tom smiled, letting the cruel smile fall off his face and smiling charmingly once more. ‘’Thank you for your time, please look at what we discussed today and use this to better yourselves. Dismissed.’’
He watched the crowd leave, picking out Black amongst the crowd. ‘’Orion, could you come here for a moment?’’ The fear swindling in Black’s eyes didn’t go unnoticed, but he walked up to Tom anyway, ignoring Rosier who was still practically lying on the ground.
‘’Yes, my lord?’’
‘’You’re friends with Potter, yes?’’
‘’I would say so, yeah.’’
‘’Then I have a task for you.’’ He motioned for Orion to come closer. Even though Rosier would still be out of it for a fair bit, he enjoyed the power of whispering something for just that person to hear. It made someone feel special, and Tom believed that it would make someone more eager to fulfill their duties.
‘’I want you to get Potter to trust you, and fill you in on the details of his illness.’’ Black’s eyes widened, mumbling back ‘’I don’t mean to go against you, my lord–’’ One of the sentences Tom hated hearing the most, ‘’--but what if I get infected?’’ Tom smiled, glad to see it was just an idiotic worry. ‘’Are you doubting my ability to heal you?’’
He didn’t like Black’s gaze, the defiance lying dormant underneath it. Tom had the urge to pull it out of him, and to Crucio him for attempting to even glare back at him. ‘’Then why don’t you heal Potter, my lord?’’
‘’How do you expect me to heal someone when I don’t know what they are suffering from, idiotic boy?’’ Black faltered under his gaze and nodded, mumbling an apology under his lips.
‘’You are dismissed, Black. I await good news.’’ The use of Orion’s last name didn’t go unnoticed.
Tom had a feeling that Harry’s cold wouldn’t be over with just a few simple potions.