Favor
“I may not be what you want, but I am who you need,” Riddle seethed, the way the words escaped his lips sounding more a threat than the confession it was. In a way, that was what it was, wasn’t it? Harry knew it from the moment Riddle had crowded him into the darkened corner of the library--the sconces long since extinguished by Madam Pince when she left hours after curfew.
“I neither want nor need you. I don’t know what I’ve done to give you this idea, but you’re clearly mistaken,” Harry spat, his wand clutched tightly between his fingers. He watched the way Riddle practically towered above him in the dark, looking more demon than man--a shadow rather than a person made entirety of flesh and blood.
Harry wondered that if he were to peel back Riddle’s layers, if fire and brimstone instead of blood and muscle. It was a funny thought to have at 1 a.m. in the restricted section, but an apt one considering the circumstances. They were both alone--and Harry knew he was not at all equipped to duke it out here in the library.
“I know your secret, Harry. I know about what goes on in these halls. I know you’ve been digging your nose into business that does not concern you,” Riddle began, but Harry did not let him finish.
“Well, if you already know so much about me, Riddle, why bother asking me these pointless questions? Kill me if I am that much of a threat,” Harry retorted, his shoulders so tense he was sure they might snap if pushed just a bit over the edge. Riddle, despite the growing tension in the air, looked quite relaxed. His wand was nowhere to be found, his arms lax at either side of him. He looked the picture of refined elegance, of beauty in repose--but Harry knew better.
He’d seen just what the prestigious Headboy had been up to--in the wrong place and the wrong time when Riddle had been disciplining one of his sycophants.
This boy was no angel, and Harry would not be fooled again by this facade.
“Kill you? That is an interesting idea,” Riddle intoned, his voice heavy with his amusement. “But no, that’s not quite what I desire from you. You see, you could be quite...useful.”
Riddle did not move, choosing to remain where he stood as he spoke.
It was unnerving to Harry to see the boy lose the humor in his tone, the pleasant mask of humanity discarded like some person suit, to reveal the cruelty beneath.
“I have a proposition for you. I know you’re in need of some...help. I could not help but overhear your discussion with Weasley.”
Harry tensed, swallowing down the sudden onslaught of emotion. He was beyond shocked, and motified that Riddle had somehow overheard his conversation. Harry had been sure he’d been speaking quietly, but apparently, not quietly enough if Riddle found out.
“No thanks. Like I said, I don’t need nor want anything from you,” Harry said with conviction, wholeheartedly believing that he’d rather deal with Malfoy’s shite than ask anything of Riddle.
“Are you sure? Do you not need a proficient wizard to...as they say, facilitate your journey to Germany? A companion your parents will approve of that will not encourage your reckless behavior?” Harry swallowed, cursing the fact that Riddle was right.
Harry did need someone to accompany him through the dangerous terrain in Germany--there were too many bloody wars going on as it was. Harry’s parents would never let him go if he’d invited anyone short of perfect. He needed someone with a little more sense--or someone that seemed to have it.
Riddle, admittedly, would have been Harry’s first choice had he not found out about Riddle’s unsavory hobbies.
And it was frustrating.
Because Harry’s parents already knew some things about Riddle, having heard nothing but good things from professors and students alike.
The Wizarding community was too bloody small.
“No. Absolutely not,” Harry stubbornly refused, all too aware of the growing tension between Riddle and himself the longer they remained in the corridor. Riddle’s lips pursed into a smirk, the expression wolfish and and hungry, making Harry think instantly of a predator with each passing second.
“I suppose your god father will die, then. You will not be able to acquire what it is that you are looking for in Germany.”
Harry froze, nearly dropping his wand in shock.
How did Riddle know about that--
Harry breathed in deeply to calm himself, ignoring the way Riddle’s eyes glowed eerily in the dark. Harry did need to go to Germany, and he knew he’d never be able to without Riddle’s support. He didn’t want to owe the bloke a thing, but there was really no other option.
Ron’s parents would never permit their son to go, and Harry would sooner die than put the ginger in such a risk. Hermione would scold him within an inch of his life, and likely reveal the true extent of his mission to his parents. It would all be with good intentions at heart, but it would definitely cause irreparable damage.
It pained him to say it, but Riddle was right.
“Fine. It’ll take your help. But what’s the catch? You don’t strike me as the type to render his services so easily.”
No, Harry knew for a fact Riddle had some other ulterior motive.
“My aid for one favor,” Riddle replied smoothly, practically purring the words out. It made something itch in the back of Harry’s brain.
“...One favor. Nothing dark, Riddle. Nothing illegal,” Harry hedged, knowing just how dangerous it was to owe Riddle of all people a favor. Especially after what he’d learned.
“Nothing illegal or dark, I assure you,” Riddle looked smug as he said it, but Harry chose to ignore it. Trusting Riddle’s words only because Harry was going to make the boy swear an oath to him.
“Swear it on your magic,” Harry commanded, face paling when Riddle’s eyes snapped quickly to his own gaze, the boy’s expression hungry.
“I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, swear on my magic that the favor you will owe me will not be illegal or dark.”
The air around them flickered with power--an indication that the oath had become effective in that second.
Harry felt incredibly nervous despite how clearly this benefited him. He couldn’t help but feel like there was just something missing that Riddle had chosen not to tell him.
“Now then, let us retire. I must meet with your parents tomorrow morning, after all,” Riddle stated smoothly, a grin wide on his face.
Yeah, Harry was definitely going to regret this.