The Heir Returns

Chapter 12

Tom obviously hadn't taken the news well, as was expected. But, surprisingly, he hadn't thrown the Cruciatus curse around like candy either. Something was different about him, Harrison thought, assessing.

The man was ranting. And so, with practiced skill, he tuned the enraged Voldemort out as he considered him from a detached standpoint.

For one, his movement was far less erratic, seemingly more controlled than previously. He remembered his first meeting with Tom months ago, where the man had been manic, a crazed gleam in his eyes. Those eyes, Harrison shuddered.

His own eyes had been described as soulless by his relatives when he was growing up. Whispers of 'Devil's Child' had riddled his household for ages. But looking at Voldemort, he realized what they had meant. His eyes felt like they held no life behind them, perhaps a minuscule fraction.

They were haunting.

Yet, after months spent working with the man, he found that some life had returned to them. They were no longer as dull, gaining a bright spark to them.

Harrison found he preferred that version of Tom much more. He wondered what had happened for the man to be so- so dead?

"Harrison!" Riddle barked, and just like that, Harrison was back to reality.

"What." He bit out, annoyed. Sure, he'd liked the man enough to go to prison for him without actually knowing him (minus the years he stalked Riddle for days on end), but that didn't mean he appreciated the tone. As if Harrison was some bothersome child that needed to be dealt with.

It killed his whole vibe. They were equals. Except Riddle was more powerful, intelligent and overall more accomplished. Tomato, Tomahto.

"Fucking hell, do you even fucking realize how much shit we're in?" Wow. Harrison hadn't known Tom Riddle could swear this much in a sentence. Harry had always assumed the stick up his arse could only permit him one or two swear words a year, unlike a common, filthy peasant.

He chuckled at his thoughts, seemingly enraging Riddle further.

"Oh, I will ensure you're shipped back to jail once you've outrun your use." The man drawled, a cruel set to his tone.

"Blah, blah, blah," Harrison returned, bored. He felt confident or suicidal enough to challenge Tom today, "stop being a big baby about this and think from a logical standpoint. If Lady Lestrange had wanted to expose us, she would've blabbed to Dumbledore by now, not set up a meeting with Adelaide in an attempt to communicate with us.

And, considering she's a Lestrange, she's likely a dark witch who'd prefer us to succeed more than Dumbledore."

Riddle started at him, shocked. Speechless.

Harrison rolled his eyes, "you can stop with the exaggerated surprise. I've been learning under your wing for months now. Of course, I've learned to think things through logically. It was practically lesson one."

Finally, Riddle deigned to speak, "I had just assumed you weren't listening." he said simply before grabbing a spare piece of parchment and gesturing Harrison over. Bloody madman.

⁂

Adelaide felt like a bloody owl. Riddle and Harrison, the traitor, decided it was only prudent if she corresponded on their behalf, seeing as Lady Lestrange had felt to single her out first.

She was pissed, of course. The seer was a menace. Adelaide was being ordered amuck against her will, and Harrison seemed to do nothing about it, too busy simpering over the absolute maniac that's Tom Riddle.