Summit talks
— CHAPTER FIVE —
Summit talks
"You're late," Tom Riddle remarked, his voice carrying a hint of reprimand as he casually scooped scrambled eggs onto his plate.
Harry, taking the same seat as the previous evening, shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t have a clock in my room,” he pointed out, his voice calm despite the undercurrent of tension. He ruffled his unruly hair with his hand, realising, as he looked at Riddle's immaculate hairstyle, that he had forgotten to comb it in the morning rush. He glanced sideways at the window to hide his growing unease.
The sky outside was a blanket of grey clouds, no snow falling today. Morning light filtered through the window, soft and dim. Inside, the fireplace was crackling warmly, and the table was full of food made by Bug. But the dining room still felt gloomy and cold, perhaps because Harry, after a night without sleep yet full of restless thoughts and plans, felt the same way.
"My oversight. I'll take care of it, but remember, I will not tolerate lateness in the future. Nor sloppiness," Riddle said, then added pointing to the food on the table: "Help yourself. If you want anything else, let me know. I'll have Bug prepare it."
Harry, slightly taken aback by this uncharacteristic mix of strictness and concern, hesitated before replying, "No, this is fine," he said, carefully pouring himself a cup of tea. The steam rose in gentle swirls, reminding him of mornings at Hogwarts spent with Ron and Hermione.
An absurdly strong longing suddenly hit him.
Not now.
They ate in silence for a few moments. Harry added sausages, bread and scrambled eggs to his plate, but his appetite was tempered by the gravity of the situation. The clatter of cutlery on plates echoed around the room as they ate breakfast.
Together.
In a civilised way.
Finally, Riddle broke the silence, his voice casual, as if asking about the weather. He didn't even put down his cutlery or stop eating. "Have you considered my proposal?"
Harry, who had been anticipating this moment since he entered the room, put down his fork and straightened up. "I have," he replied, meeting Riddle's gaze with a calmness that belied his inner turmoil.
"And...?"
Harry took a deep breath.
"I am willing to accept your offer, but I have my conditions."
Perhaps it was cowardice on his part, but I'll help you wouldn't have passed his lips. Just like the choice of words would change anything.
"Conditions?" Riddle raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips, as if amused by the audacity of Harry having conditions in his current predicament. "You're in no position to make demands, Potter."
Harry's jaw tightened, but he maintained his composure. "Maybe not," he conceded, "but if you want my genuine cooperation, you'll hear me out. I… I…" Come on, don't be a coward. "I'll help you, but only if it means creating a better world, not the nightmare you're destined for. No innocent lives taken, no reign of terror."
He said that. I'll help you. His parents must be turning over in their graves.
"And these are your terms?" Riddle asked offhandedly. With an elegant movement, he cut off a piece of sausage and put it in his mouth.
Harry looked at Riddle in a way that he hoped expressed absolute disdain.
"You know, I think I've changed my mind."
That finally made Riddle take Harry seriously. He swallowed his sausage, slowly put his fork down on his plate and looked at him attentively.
"I'm listening, then. What are your terms?"
Harry shifted uneasily in his chair. This was it, the point of no return.
"First," Harry began, his voice steady despite the swirl of emotion inside, "as I said, no deliberate harm to Muggles or innocent witches and wizards. And no killing, of course."
Tom Riddle's piercing grey eyes narrowed slightly.
"You are asking for the impossible, Potter. The path to power isn't always clean. I cannot promise never to harm the innocent," he replied, his tone devoid of remorse.
"It's not negotiable," Harry said firmly.
"I won’t have my hands tied in this matter," Riddle replied icily.
Harry had expected this refusal and resistance, and yet he felt disappointed.
"So, our deal is off. You said you wanted to change your future. Terrorising and killing the innocent is Voldemort's trademark. And you were supposed to be different." Harry let frustration colour his voice, wanting it to be clear how important this matter was to him.
"You should appreciate the honesty, Potter. I might agree and then torture and kill anyway." There was a note of warning in Riddle's voice.
Harry snorted in disbelief. And to think that just five minutes ago he had deluded himself into thinking that these negotiations could make any sense.
Riddle reached for a cup and took a sip of his tea. He set it down on the saucer with a soft click and sighed.
"I can, however, agree to limit myself slightly in this case. If I promise not to torture and kill others for the mere pleasure of spreading terror and fear, is that enough for you?"
No, it wasn’t enough. But knowing Voldemort's true nature, it was a step forward.
"If by innocent you mean Muggles, witches and wizards who might disagree with you," Harry replied, looking Riddle straight in the eyes.
Riddle was silent for a moment, as if seriously considering Harry's condition. Finally, he nodded.
"So be it. But if anyone tries to threaten my plans, I reserve the right to respond. In an effective way. And of course, I make no promises of complete harmlessness."
Harry let out a breath: the first behind them. He doubted Riddle would keep his word, but since he had no intention of sticking to their agreement either, he figured he could pretend that this satisfied him. It was a concession, after all.
"Agreed."
Riddle looked at him. A difficult to interpret smile appeared on his lips.
"Anything else?"
"I've only just started."
"Feel free," Riddle said, his amusement becoming even more obvious. "I hope you won't mind if I finish my breakfast in the meantime then."
"Feel free,", replied Harry, mimicking him. This insolence came with surprising ease although he never for a moment forgot that the future Dark Lord was sitting opposite him. Yet the fact that he looked only a few years older than Harry made him seem less intimidating than Voldemort.
Riddle cut off a piece of sausage and scooped it onto a fork. It flashed through Harry's mind in spite of himself that even such a mundane activity he was doing with incredible grace.
"So?" Riddle prompted as he had swallowed.
"I want my advice to be taken seriously, especially the ones regarding the future. You need to listen and consider what I say," said Harry.
The response was quick and unexpected.
"Agreed. Your knowledge of the future is precisely why you're valuable to me. I intend to use it to avoid the fate of Lord Voldemort."
It was too easy.
"Riddle, I really do expect you to take my advice."
Riddle's eyes glittered with predatory intelligence. "Rest assured, Potter, your insights will be taken into account. But remember, the final decision is mine."
Ah, so that was the catch.
Harry nodded, his expression hardening. "I will. But as your... advisor, I also expect freedom of action," he said and moved on to the next condition.
Even he was surprised by his calmness, but as the negotiations moved forward, his confidence grew.
Riddle, who was cutting another piece of sausage, raised an eyebrow.
"Freedom? In what sense?" His tone was laced with both curiosity and a hint of amusement. Again.
This was starting to irritate Harry.
"I want to be able to make my own choices. I won't just be a mindless puppet," Harry said, pushing his plate away from him. Although he didn't eat everything he put on himself, he didn't feel hungry. Then he rested his elbows on the table and crossed his arms.
Riddle replied only after he had eaten another portion of sausage. "Once you have proved your loyalty and usefulness, you will be given more freedom. But for now, you must follow my orders strictly."
Harry’s jaw tightened. “If our partnership is to succeed from the start I need some autonomy, even if it is limited."
Riddle's lips curled into a half-smile, as if amused by Harry's audacity.
"And you will get it. But in time. Besides, I never talked about a partnership, I talked about you helping me. "
"You know, Riddle, there's a difference between a helper and a prisoner," Harry pointed out, his green eyes flashing with defiance. "If you want my genuine cooperation, not just forced compliance, you have to give me some space."
Riddle leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving Harry.
"How about starting with the freedom to express your opinion without fear of the consequences? Within reason, of course, with proper manners and never in public if it goes against my basic ideas. In public, you have to keep up appearances. Always." Riddle said the last sentence in a tone that left no doubt that only unpleasant things awaited Harry if he did not comply.
Harry nodded, though his expression showed clear dissatisfaction. “And if I disagree with some of your orders?”
Riddle's eyes twinkled with something like challenge. "Then you may express it, in private. And under the same conditions. But in the end, my word is final. Don't forget the Oath of Submission you swore to me. It still binds you."
"Don't forget that I also have my moral convictions. I'm not going to obey any order that goes against them. I'll never hurt anyone. Nor will I use black magic."
Riddle ate the last piece of sausage, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. Instead of commenting on Harry's statement in any way, he asked:
"Have you finished eating?"
Harry, surprised by this change of subject, said: "Yes," then immediately added with evident anger: "Did you hear what I just said?"
Riddle snapped his fingers and almost instantly Bug materialised in the room.
"We've finished. Clean up the table," he instructed the house elf.
Bug eagerly set about carrying out the order. When the house elf saw that Harry had hardly touched the food he had put on his plate, he looked at him with a mixture of anger and reproach. As if the fact that Harry had not eaten his scrambled eggs was a personal insult to Bug.
Great. The last thing Harry needed to complete his happiness was to live with a house elf who clearly had something against him. What was wrong with these creatures?
"As I said, I grant you the right to speak freely," Riddle said, returning to an earlier topic as Bug Disapparated with a soft click. His tone was icy cold. "If you present convincing arguments, there is a chance that I will change the orders that don't suit you or are contrary to your morals."
It was a lot less than Harry had hoped for, but it had to be enough for him to start with. If his plan worked out, he wouldn't have to worry about it for long.
"Fine", Harry said, sighing a little too ostentatiously. And then he moved on to the next condition. Instinctively, he straightened up and hid his hands under the table, crossing his fingers. This one was the most important in terms of his real plans. "I want my wand back. Mainly so I can start learning magic again. In case you missed it, I'm in the middle of my sixth year."
Riddle picked up a cup and sipped at his tea. He didn't take his eyes off Harry, and there was something in his gaze that the boy didn't like.
Harry felt a surge of heat. Was his plan that obvious?
"Concerned about your education, are we? Rest assured, Potter, it won't be neglected. I'll see to it personally."
"I meant studying alone," Harry shot back, a little too harshly. The prospect of a lessons together increased his irritation. That was not the plan. Not to mention that with Riddle breathing down his neck, he wouldn't have a chance to peacefully looking for a way back to his own time. “Not under you. I can handle it on my own, just give me the wand and access to the books."
"To refuse such an offer is foolish, Potter," Riddle said calmly, putting his cup back on its saucer. "Let us not forget how easily I defeated you in our duel. Your magical training is quite lacking."
Harry's jaw clenched. He knew deep down that Riddle was right, but admitting it was another matter. "My shortcomings haven't stopped me from defeating Voldemort before," he replied.
"This time, however, defeating Voldemort is not your goal. I want you to be useful, so I need to know if you can do more than you showed before."
"I thought my usefulness was limited to helping you change your fate."
"Yes, it is. But sometimes that might require a more... active approach," Riddle replied, leaning back in his chair with a smug look on his face.
They both knew he had backed Harry into a corner.
"Fine. But I'm not going to learn any black magic spells." Harry declared immediately. He crossed his arms over his chest.
Riddle's gaze was unwavering. "What you will learn is up to me — be it spells, potion brewing, or even the darker arts."
"No black magic. Neither on my part nor on yours. This, by the way, is one of my next conditions. It’s non-negotiable."
"Well, I guess it will have to be, though," Riddle replied, still surprisingly calm and with this infuriating expression.
"No," replied Harry firmly. Stubbornness laced his voice. "It was dark magic that brought Voldemort to the state he's in. It was what made him so weak that a one-year-old child could send him into oblivion for thirteen years."
A shadow of annoyance flashed across Riddle's face. Oh yes, it was a touchy subject.
"Only because he allowed himself to be consumed by it. I will not make that mistake," Riddle replied dryly.
"How do you know? Voldemort probably thought the same. And look how he ended up."
"Because I have you. I'm sure that if you notice that I'm taking the same path as him, you'll tell me right away."
The bluntness of this statement left Harry almost speechless.
"That's what I'm doing right now, and you're not listening to me!" Harry said, annoyed. "I'm supposed to give you advice. This is my first piece of advice: give up black magic. Stop using it."
Riddle sighed, as if he were dealing with a particularly stubborn child.
"I know what fate awaits Voldemort and believe me I have no intention of sharing it. But black magic is not just a tool of destruction. It's a source of power, knowledge. To limit ourselves to acceptable magic is to fight with one hand tied behind our backs. Besides, understanding dark magic is crucial, even if you plan to fight against it."
Harry's hands clenched into fists under the table. "I don't need to delve into darkness to know it's wrong. There's a line that shouldn't be crossed."
Riddle leaned slightly across the table towards Harry.
“What if returning to your own time requires a dark magic ritual?” he asked quietly, almost confidentially. "Are you going to be so principled then too?"
Harry also leaned towards Riddle. He looked him straight in the eye.
"Then I'll just start looking another way."
Riddle straightened up and laughed quietly.
"That childish naivety..." He shook his head. "Good luck with that, especially as the magic involved in time travel has its roots precisely in black magic."
"You're lying," hissed Harry.
Riddle shrugged his shoulder.
"Well, I guess I'll have to let you find out that for yourself. And back to your condition. I won't allow any restrictions on this matter. Black magic is part of my nature, and I will not abandon my studies of it. However, I can agree not to push you too much on learning it. Especially since our duel showed that you are deficient in more basic areas of magic, and they will be dealt with first. Does that suit you?"
"What do you mean you won't push me too much on learning it?" asked Harry, narrowing his eyes.
"I will require you to learn the basics. We will move on to more advanced aspects only if you start showing a more mature approach."
The mention of a more mature approach was probably meant to sting Harry, but it was completely misplaced. If it was about the dark arts Riddle might even have thought he was displaying the attitude of a toddler, he wouldn't have cared.
Harry hesitated, weighing Riddle's words. "Learning the basic. And only basics. But not using," he said slowly, trying to find a middle ground. "And you'll give me back my wand."
Riddle raised an eyebrow mockingly.
"You want to learn spells without casting them? If that's the standard way of learning in your time, then I'm not surprised I won so easily with you."
Harry snorted in exasperation, despite himself being reminded of Umbridge's approach. This remark has already reached the target.
"Only when it comes to black magic," he stated firmly.
"And here I thought you were serious about these negotiations," Riddle said, disgust evident in his voice.
Harry bristled. He was serious. But he also realised that what he was insisting on was absurd. It was impossible to learn magic theoretically.
"I won't be casting those spells on any living creature," he reluctantly relented, deciding that if anything, he'd just not bother with learning.
Riddle nodded, clearly satisfied.
"Agreed. You will, of course, have access to the wand during our classes. But only when you have convinced me that you will not take the first opportunity to escape will you have your wand back for good."
"Acceptable. I would also like to reserve the right to refuse an order if it involves cursing someone or using a dark magic spell".
"For now, let's settle on this: you won't be required to use dark magic on any living being, until you are ready. And I will not force such readiness upon you."
Harry hesitated, weighing his options. It was a compromise he could live with for the time being, although not quite what he expected. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Fine. But I can assure you even now that I will never be ready for that, Riddle. Don't delude yourself into thinking otherwise."
Riddle's smile was thin, almost predatory. "We'll see, Potter. Time has a way of changing perspectives."
Harry felt a momentary relief, tempered by lingering concern. "I'm not going to become something I'm not, Riddle. No matter how much time will pass."
Riddle didn't answer but drank his tea. Harry reached for his own cup as well.
"Anything else?"
"There are two more conditions."
"You drive a hard bargain."
"You didn't expect me to sell my skin cheap, did you?"
Riddle smiled slightly, just at the corners of his mouth. He waved his hand for Harry to continue.
Harry swallowed the contents of the cup in one gulp and set it down on the saucer.
"No more Legilimency. My thoughts, my memories — they stay mine." he stated, a determined glint in his eyes.
He was proud of himself: his voice didn't tremble. And he wasn't sure about that, not after the mental rape Riddle had subjected him to two days ago.
Surprisingly, it took some time before Riddle responded. His answer was as calculated as it was measured.
"I cannot forgo such a useful tool, Potter. However, I can agree to respect your privacy to a certain extent, but should I deem it necessary to verify your honesty, I will use Legilimency." There was a hint of steel in his eyes. "I can also offer to ask your permission first and… be gentle about it. Unless, of course, you're caught in a lie. In that case, I reserve the right to use it without warning or permission."
"So, my thoughts are only my own until you decide otherwise? That's hardly reassuring, Riddle!"
And his composure was gone.
Riddle's expression remained impassive. "Well, you will have to trust me not to abuse my right to look through your thoughts, just as I have to trust you to be honest with me."
Harry snorted.
"Consider it a privilege, Potter. Others don't receive such courtesy."
"It's hardly a privilege when someone warns you that he's about to invade your mind."
Riddle leaned back, a thin smile playing on his lips. "It's the best I can offer. Take it or leave it."
Harry clenched his hands hidden under the table into fists. His nails dug painfully into his flesh.
"Will you respect my refusal if you don't catch me in a lie?"
"Unless I have a real good reason not to."
That wasn't the answer he was expecting. It still depended on whether Riddle would have such a whim or not.
"Promise at least that you will never.... never again do what you did last time," asked Harry tentatively, angry with himself for saying it after all.
The expression on Riddle's face grew serious. However, that was not what surprised Harry the most.
"You have my word."
"Thanks," replied Harry quietly, looking away. He was embarrassed by his request, his reaction, but it had already happened. Besides, Riddle was well aware of the state he had led him into during that damned memory lane, it wasn't as if he had betrayed any of his weaknesses.
There was silence in the dining room, which was finally broken by Riddle.
"Then there's one more left, right? Let's get it over with."
Harry pulled himself together. He hoped they would discuss this condition quickly.
"I want a vow of non-aggression. No direct harm to each other."
Riddle's response was immediate.
"That wouldn't be wise. What if I want us to have a practice duel? After such an oath it will be impossible."
"Then we'll exclude the duel from it."
Riddle shook his head. "No. I can promise you that I won't hurt you just for the pleasure of inflicting pain, if that's what you're afraid of. But I need to keep some way of disciplining you."
"Discipline me?" Harry repeated dully.
"Yes. I don't think you expect to get away with it when you misbehave." Riddle leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, smiling smugly.
"You must be joking!"
"On the contrary, I'm deadly serious."
Harry looked at Riddle for a moment in genuine bewilderment.
"And what will this discipline supposedly look like?" he finally asked despite himself when it reached him that Riddle really wasn't joking.
Wasn't it enough that he was in danger of losing his magic because of this stupid Oath of Submission?
"Crucio. Its length would depend on the offence, of course."
"You're fucked," snapped Harry.
"Language, Potter," Riddle reprimanded him, narrowing his grey eyes slightly. "The next time I hear you swear, verbal reprimand will be the last thing I do."
A cold shiver ran down Harry's spine, but he asked defiantly, "Then what? Are you going to throw Crucio at me?"
"Yes, I will."
He didn't even hesitate.
"And you don't see an inch of exaggeration in that?"
"Why should I? It's a convenient and effective way to maintain discipline. I've been using it for years."
In the mouth of a twenty-year-old, it sounded... Scary, to say the least.
"Fuck it. You are Voldemort, no matter what you say." Harry pushed himself angrily away from the table. The chair squeaked.
Riddle's gaze was ice cold. So was his tone.
"Sit down. Unless you really want us to work together in a painful way. I will not give up on punishing you. And your behaviour only confirms my belief that I shouldn't. You’re an impulsive teenager who needs to learn to control his emotions if he is to be useful."
Harry struggled with his thoughts for a moment but finally sank back into his chair. "At least suggest something other than Crucio. You know, in my time, throwing it will get you into Azkaban."
"In these too," Riddle replied calmly, taking a more relaxed pose. He looked at Harry thoughtfully for a moment.
"Judging by your reaction, Crucio will be quite an effective punishment," he said after a moment of silence. Harry was about to protest, but Riddle silenced him with a wave of his hand. "However, so that you don't get used to it too quickly, I can make some concessions. I'll save Crucio for special occasions."
This didn't calm Harry down at all.
"What special occasions?" he asked with a lump in his throat.
"Attempting to run away, defying me in front of others, blatant disrespect, failure to obey an important direct order," Riddle began to list.
"That's quite a lot, don't you think?" Harry remarked sarcastically. "Why don't you write this down somewhere?"
"Of course, in case of betrayal Crucio will be the least of your problems," Riddle continued, as if he hadn't heard what Harry had just said. "On the other hand, for swearing, insolence such as the one just now, disrespect or defiance when we are alone, or failure to obey some not particularly significant order, I can agree to a less drastic punishment."
"That's mean?"
Riddle spoke slowly, as if he was thinking about it himself at the same time.
"Depriving you of some privileges, taking away your wand temporarily, some sort of light curse, maybe even physical punishment. Unless you have any suggestions of your own, you'd like to add to the list."
"A verbal reprimand?" prompted Harry, in a mocking tone.
To his surprise, Riddle took the suggestion seriously.
"Could be, although I thought it was obvious. So? Are you satisfied with such terms?"
Harry was silent for a moment, unable to believe the absurdity of what was happening. Had he just discussed with the future murderer of his parents how he would be punished? And... was he willing to agree to it? Even if it was only to maintain the appearance of cooperation, the thought of allowing Riddle to cast Crucio on him without protest disgusted him.
Riddle misinterpreted Harry's silence. "Just obey, Potter, and you won't have to worry about punishment or pain."
"I'm not afraid of pain," Harry replied coolly. "I just find the very idea of punishment absurd."
"You are now in my care, as my ward. You are still a minor, after all. So I am, literally, your guardian and, thanks to one of your conditions today, your teacher as well," Riddle pointed out. He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. More surprisingly, there was no trace of mockery or sarcasm in his voice. "That’s mean my role is also to discipline you when necessary. I will not give up on that. The question is whether you would prefer me to always do it with Crucio, or whether you would appreciate and accept my concessions."
"But apart from punishments and situations where you will teach me how to fight you will not hurt me," Harry demanded assurance, trying to ignore other feelings than utter dismay.
Because, despite his trepidation, Riddle's statement also stirred something in him that had been dormant long, long ago, during the dark, lonely nights he had spent in the cupboard under the stairs.
You are now in my care.
Riddle nodded curtly.
"You have my word."
"Raise your wand at me in any other situation and I’ll consider our agreement no longer binding."
"If you break any of our agreements today, you may also treat our agreement as such. Just don't forget that I have other ways of forcing your cooperation. And then it won't necessarily be as civilised as it is now."
Harry nodded. Riddle stood up and held out his hand.
"Do we have a deal?"
Well, the negotiations hadn't exactly gone Harry's way, but he'd managed to get a few things.
"We do. As long as we both stick to the terms we've set today."
Harry shook Riddle's hand.