“Roses, perhaps? Or a nice Lily?”
Harry rolled his eyes at the bland guesses, but kept his voice level as he responded, “You’re not going to guess my favorite flowers like that, Mr. Riddle.”
“Ah, but my dear,” The older man said with a flourish, “I simply must know what you adore, to be successful in my attempts to woo you.”
With a grimace, Harry turned back to the register and played that another customer would show up before Riddle wore his patience thin. “If you’re interested in buying me flowers, have you considered the Crystal Love package?” He said sweetly, as if he was not purposefully suggesting the most expensive thing in their shop, in a bid to put the man off.
Riddle seemed to consider it for a moment, then leaned over the counter in a way that had Harry flinching back. “Is that what you want, my dove? My wealth? I would give you that and so much more if you would only allow me to call you mine in truth.”
Thankfully, Blaise chose that moment to walk out from the back room, and gave Riddle a fake smile. “Ah, Tom, wonderful to see you. Will you be making a purchase from the shop today? Only, it’s very difficult to keep a business running if no one is buying!” He laughed at his words like they were the most hilarious joke, but the look in his eye was deadly serious. “I would hate to be forced to call this loitering.”
Riddle’s face twisted into a look of rage, but he pulled himself together with visible difficulty, and glanced back at Harry. “Ah, your brother seems intent on running me off, my dove, I shall have to return later, perhaps when we can be alone? I do adore talking with you.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Mr. Riddle…” Harry locked eyes with Blaise pleadingly. “I shouldn’t be here by myself, you never know what people may do to a young man alone in the city, you see?”
“Of course… of course. Especially one as pretty as you, my dove.” Riddle sighed and rested a hand on Harry’s forearm, pointedly ignoring the way the younger man jerked away from his touch. “I shall see you again soon.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry hated closing alone, especially with the way Riddle seemed to be getting more and more adamant every time they met, but Blaise had to be with his wife tonight. Even Harry’s worries didn’t supersede the birth of his first child, after all! Neither would Harry want it to, if he was honest with himself, though he still held a bit of apprehension about walking to the bus in the dark.
The stop was quiet, with the scattered streetlights on either side mostly burnt out, while the one above him flickered with a low hum. Nothing moved at first, but as Harry began to relax at the stillness, he heard something behind him. Turning, he saw nothing, so Harry turned back around only to shout in surprise at a figure standing directly before him. He felt a hand grab his hair, and another shove something over his mouth and nose.
Harry struggled.
He fought.
But in the end, he blacked out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Harry woke, he immediately noticed the heavy manacles attached to his wrists and ankles, along with the thick collar around his neck. Only after that did it finally occur to him that he wasn’t wearing clothes, huddled on the cold stone floor of what appeared an unfinished basement in nothing but his boxers- a weak comfort for him at this rate.
As he lay there, trying to figure out what had happened, and why he couldn’t remember, he heard the basement door begin to creak open, and watched in horror as familiar black boots appeared on the top step.
“My dove, you’re awake at last.” Riddle moved down the stairs with a gleeful smile, holding an oddly stained toolbox that had Harry trembling at what it could signify. “I do apologize for the state you’re in, but honestly. How else could I be sure you’d stay?”
“Please, Mr. Riddle-”
“Tom.”
“Yeah, sure, sure! Mr. Tom, please, please I won’t tell anyone, I won’t, I swear, please just let me go, please.”
“Oh my dove, I would love to let you go, I know it isn’t your fault that you have such silly notions of freedom. But, alas, I do know what’s best for you, and wasting your beauty in some silly flower shop, working for those peasants like some common oaf? Perish the thought, darling. No, no. You were destined to be mine, my lover, my pet, my dove.”
“Please, I-”
Riddle ran a hand down Harry’s cheek and laughed softly when he flinched away. “Shhh, little one. Don’t worry. I know just how to clip my dove’s wings so you can never get away from me.” He set down the toolbox and snapped it open, kneeling in front of Harry’s bound legs. “I’ve been planning this for months, you know. I hate that it will hurt you… but at the same time, I find beauty in your pain, my dove. I wish to see all of you- the good, the bad, and the ugly. Not that there is anything ugly about you, no!”
From the box, Riddle pulled a saw.
A saw.
Harry found himself unable to speak for a moment as he realized what that meant, then began screaming and thrashing in earnest, hoping against hope that he’d manage to break the bonds, but a sharp jab to the thigh by some sort of syringe soon had him tiring of his struggles. After a short amount of time, perhaps fifteen minutes, he could feel his head going light, and his limbs beginning to refuse to work for him. Cold, thick dread slid down the back of his spine, and he realized now what it meant to have bile in his throat.
He didn’t remember much after that.