the gift of fear (tomarry) (harry x death)

proverbs

The start of Tom Riddle's magical education defies all of Tom's expectations – and not in a good way. In the way that Harry defies all of his expectations of kindness, honesty, and compassion.

He wakes him early from his bed, while all the other children are resting. "What?" snaps Tom.

"It's magic time," says Harry, somewhat whimsically,, entirely amused and mocking. "Don't you wanna learn? Aren't you an academic?"

Tom sits up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Isn't it," he says, quietly, "a bit early for that, eh?"

"It's never too early for magic."

Says the man that hid it from me for a year. "Give me a minute," he grumbles. Harry slips out of his room and Tom takes his time dressing and brushing his hair, reluctant to leave the privacy of his own room.

And what a great thing it is, to have privacy again. Tom had never forgotten how good it felt, to have a space all to yourself, never invaded.

Well. Almost never invaded.

Tom exits his room. Harry is leaning against the wall, waiting for him. "Follow me," instructs Harry.

He begins walking and Tom follows suit. "Where are we going?" he asks in a whisper.

"My office," he answers. "I've cleared it out for our session today."

Tom frowns. "I still don't get why we have to do it so early," he complains.

"Patience, kiddo. I don't expect this first session to take a while. But it is good to be prepared. You've.." he struggles for the word, "Deviated from what I thought you were. It's hard to tell where you fit in my mind."

Good, thinks Toms, viciously. You deserve to be just as conflicted as I am. "Will it take all day?"

Harry stops in front of his room, hand hovering over the door nod. "Maybe," he admits. "But wouldn't that be fun, hm?"

Tom is still trying to figure out what he means by that when Harry opens the door to his office and beckons him inside.

It is evident that it has been cleared, almost completely, for this event. There are no chairs and only one desk, in which there are no books upon it There is a steaming kettle and a large, 5 gallon bucket of water beside it. There is also a small campfire stove, flaming.

Tom stares at the scene with a frown. "I thought I was going to be learning something," says Tom, stepping into the room, glancing around the walls. They are painted the same silver and green of his bedroom.

"You are," says Harry.

"It doesn't look like it."

"I believe that the best way to learn is from experience," explains Harry. He locks the door behind him.

Tom glances away nervously. "There's no books," he notes. "No notepads, pencils -- or," he says, recalling his conversation with Charlus, "quills. It doesn't give the best impression of a learning environment."

"Just wait, Tom. You're about to learn one of the most important skills a wizard can have." He rolls up his sleeves and pops his fingers in front of him, stretching out his arms. Tom stands there awkwardly, unsure if he should be stretching, too. "I call it 'assurance of bodily autonomy,' but it goes by many names."

Tom is never sure of his bodily autonomy with Harry. What he decides to do and is influenced to is divided by only a thin, fine line. Was it his choice to walk in here, to play Harry's game? It sure as Hell wasn't his idea.

"I've soundproofed the walls in here with a special spell. It's very rare, so you won't have heard of it anyway. It's called 'muffalo.'"

An idea toward the mystery of what he's here for. "Will you be teaching me it?" he asks, curiously. It could be useful, if only to hide his scheming conversations from Harry.