Chapter Text
The very first thing Lyra felt when she woke up was mild discomfort because of her awkward sleeping position. She groggily sat up on the couch in the Room of Requirement, massaging her neck in the hopes the ache would dissipate. Why hadn't she chosen to fall asleep on a bed?
Her eyes drifted to the armchair beside her and she remembered why. On any other day, her mood would've soured at the thought of him because he ruined yet another thing again, but today... today was Christmas.
Christmas was different.
And so the next feeling that slammed into her was a burning sense of loss that overwhelmed everything else she was feeling. Her heart suddenly felt like it was too heavy for her body, and she shut her eyes and tried to banish all the disconcerting thoughts invading her mind over and over. The way her brother's love for Quidditch rivaled her own, the last time she'd heard him laugh, his vacant stare as he lay crumpled at the foot of the stairs...
Stop thinking, a small voice whispered in her mind. But sadly, that voice was drowned out by all the other memories bouncing off of each other and multiplying in her mind. She'd told herself this year, as she had all the other years, that she would simply not think about it... and again, she'd failed miserably at it.
"Welcome back to the world of the living," Tom said dryly, emerging from a door in the side of the room. She didn't even have it in her to crack a joke about the irony of his statement. "You snore like a donkey."
Her eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to retort, briefly forgetting how awful she was feeling about her brother's death anniversary. Then, she realized: she was forgetting.
This could be great.
"I'll go with you," she said suddenly.
His eyebrows raised. Even he couldn't conceal how surprised he was. "You want to come to Gringotts with me?"
"That is what I just said, yes."
"That is interesting. I'd have assumed you would have been incapacitated all day, perhaps even all week."
"I think replacing one source of misery with another source of misery would help greatly." She rubbed her hands together. Yes, this idea was a brilliant one.
"What's the other source of misery?"
"You, of course."
He turned his nose up at her. "I reject that."
"You can't reject it. It's not yours to reject."
"It's incorrect is what it is. There isn't a single person in this castle who would agree with you. I'm good company. Everyone wishes to be in my presence."
"I disagree. I don't wish to be in your presence."
"You're irrelevant."
"Fine then. Go by yourself."
He scowled. "Be ready in an hour, or I leave without you."
***
"Try some."
"No."
"A little." She held up a spoon of the large ice cream sundae that she'd bought from one of the shops at Diagon Alley. After that horrendous Knight Bus ride from the outskirts of Hogwarts, she didn't think she'd have an appetite, but the dessert was just that good.
"No."
"More for me then," she shrugged.
"When will you be done eating?" he demanded.
"When I want to be," she said frostily. "Is that a problem?"
"What kind of a lunatic has ice cream in the winter?"
"The genius kind, Riddle." She took another large bite of the treat and looked outside the stained glass. Families were browsing stores... or pretending to be happy. "Have you ever had ice cream in the winter?"
"It's meant to be had in the summer."
"Now, who dictated that? If that was true, why is it being produced in the winter?"
There was a moment of silence, and she just knew he was tongue-tied. "You're very annoying, has anybody told you that?"
"You have. Several times."
"And you still don't change."
"With that logic, I've picked out several flaws in your character but those don't seem to be getting any better either."
"I'm not flawed. I'm perfection itself."
"You are one of the most flawed people I've ever met, Riddle."
"I will leave you here," he threatened.
"Yes, leave me in this alley with food and bookstores and cheer. Whatever will I do without your delightful presence?"
"Suffer." He got up, dusting imaginary dust off of his coat.
"Wh- are you actually leaving?"
"Yes."
"Wait," she snapped, shoveling ice cream into her mouth and wincing because of the cold that wrapped itself around her head. Within three minutes, she'd polished it off.
"You eat like a donkey as well," he commented.
"You are a donkey," she muttered, stalking towards the exit of the cafe they'd been sitting at. Unfortunately, because the git was tall, he caught up to her easily.
"If I'm a donkey, you're a troll."
"Hey, they're cute. What do you bring to the table as a donkey?"
That made him stop in his tracks. "You find trolls cute?"
"When... when they're asleep. Maybe."
He stared at her, judgment covering his features. Honestly, she couldn't blame him. She was judging herself as well. Trolls? Cute? Really? She didn't actually find them cute, of course not. She just needed a response.
He shook his head at her and took off in the direction of Gringotts, his infuriatingly long stride compelling her to practically run to keep up with him. She now regretted having the ice cream.
"Did you bring the paperwork?" she asked as they entered the bank.
"Of course," he replied, in a tone that implied that she was stupid to ask.
"Just checking."
"I'm not as flimsy as you."
She sighed, focusing on not making eye contact with any of the goblins in Gringotts. She doubted they knew who she was, for they were only concerned about the hands that passed the gold around, and nobody ever placed gold in the hands of women. Even the account she'd opened for her post-Hogwarts savings, she'd gone out of her way to make sure that they'd never associate her face with it.
Her face twitched as she thought about that bank account. She hated how Riddle was so determined that all he had eyes for was Gringotts, so even the biggest bookstore in the world wouldn't send him running. She also hated how sharp he was: even if she snuck off to check on it, despite her best efforts to be discreet, he'd know.
But it's such a golden opportunity.
Her eyes narrowed as she contemplated throwing him into a ditch. She'd petrified him before, and she could petrify him again. She could even roam around Diagon Alley without his voice in her ear, correcting and criticizing everything she did.
"Whatever you're thinking about doing," he whispered, a smile she now knew was fake on his face. "Don't."
"I thought you said I'd incapable of thinking."
His head tilted a little. "Have I ever said that?"
"I dunno. I don't remember. Probably. You've said tons of things to me. Is it so far-fetched?"
He chuckled, as though they were laughing about something very funny. "Stay quiet now."
And so she did. She stayed quiet as the big manly men (more like boy and goblin) reviewed his documents, stayed quiet as more goblins were called to discuss this unique case, stayed quiet as seemingly illicit deals were made (but what did she know, for she was a silly little fluff-brained girl?), even stayed quiet as golden key lined with emerald green jewels passed hands until it landed in Riddle's.
Once again, there was a whisper of doubt in the corner of her mind. Had she done the right thing? Were they even for the way she'd abandoned him all those years ago overnight, despite claiming to be one of his closest friends?
When the rock door creaked open slowly to reveal mountains of gold that were huge, huge, so huge that even the fortune of several great wizarding families combined couldn't rival them, she realized that they were more than even.
That little key absolved her of any role she had in the making of this monster.
***
Her eyes burned as she kept her eyes trained on a point on the horizon, even through the gusts of rain distorting her view. It had been an hour since they'd left Gringotts, and Tom was so happy (of course, he would never have admitted to that directly) that he was okay with them roaming around Diagon Alley.
She'd never actually seen Diagon Alley when it was covered in anything but sunlight. She'd only come a grand total of five times (this time being her sixth), in the summer when she had to do her Hogwarts shopping, and because her parents tagged along and didn't let her do anything she wanted, she never really got to look at the Alley and all it had to offer.
But now she was bored. And she was a Ravenclaw, which meant that her curiosity was often dangerous.
She briefly gave the idea of tossing him in a ditch some more consideration again. She definitely couldn't take him to where she wanted to go, because that she knew was a bad idea. But she really, really wanted to go.
"Once again," Riddle said slowly. "Whatever you want to do, don't."
"How do you do that?" she asked incredulously. Her Occlumency walls were up.
"You have a look on your face when you're thinking of doing something that will irk me."
"Please," she scoffed. "I don't give you any more importance in my mind than I should."
"Ah, so you do give me some importance." Her eyes flicked around, but sadly there were no ditches around, only brick walls. He laughed. "You're doing it again."
"No."
"No?" he said, still laughing at her.
"Stop laughing at me."
"Why not? You laugh at me all the time."
"I will... poke you."
"You will poke me?" he asked, amused.
"Yes. With a knife."
"Speaking of knives. How familiar are you with Knockturn Alley?"
She deflated. All those plans she'd come up with were all for nothing, because the place she didn't want him to see had been on his mind all along. "Never been."
"I want to go."
It was a disastrously bad idea and she knew it was a disastrously bad idea. Whatever Riddle was planning was not good for the world, and Knockturn Alley was a step towards his plans. That place was filled with dark, vile magic that repulsed even a few members of the pureblood community. Of course, she was interested in seeing said dark magic (never practicing it, but getting to see it).
She could see it anytime in a few years though. Without him.
But so could he. And she'd rather he see it with her than with other depraved people such as Lestrange or himself.
"Alright," she nodded. "I know the way."
"So do I," he muttered. "Walk a bit faster, will you?"
"Is your Water Repellant charm not strong enough?" she pouted. "I can do it for you, mine's held for a long time now."
"I will drown you one day."
She laughed despite knowing that the threat wasn't entirely an idle one.
"Well?" he asked once they'd crossed a few streets and entered through the narrow opening of Knockturn Alley. "Where should we go?"
"This field trip was your idea, and you don't have an itinerary?" she asked, feigning ignorance. She knew of places within the Alley, but was hoping that Riddle would miss out on them.
"I do have a plan. I just wanted to give you the chance to choose. And you failed," he sneered, pulling out a piece of parchment from his coat.
She clapped her hand over her mouth as giggles escaped her. There was just something so funny about Tom Riddle trying to be democratic.
The giggling stopped once they entered the first store on his list. The fact that the store didn't even have a name, just a big bloodstain on the window, should've been her first clue that she ought to run away screaming.
Oh dear.
But she didn't. And she regretted this decision when the door clicked shut behind her and all she could smell was death.
***
"I'm never going on another field trip with you," she said, once they were safely out of Knockturn Alley three hours later. The books had managed to undersell how dark and depraved the place truly was, but she was also fascinated with the kinds of artifacts she'd seen. "This was traumatizing."
"Please," he scoffed. "I saw the way you looked at those artifacts in Borgin & Burkes. The questions you asked at Morgana's Vault. The-"
"Yes, I get it. I have morbid curiosity."
"I have to say. Black... I will not lie-"
"You just did."
He glared at her and she stuck her tongue out at him. She loved annoying him.
"As I was saying," he said frostily. "I must say, I find myself surprised at your interest in Dark Magic artifacts."
"And I, Riddle, am thoroughly unsurprised at yours," she replied. She wasn't lying either because even in the second year, she knew that he was interested in this sort of thing. She'd heard him asking her brother a lot of questions about it.
Do not think about Leo. Do not think about Leo.
He stayed quiet for a while as they walked back to the train station to go back to the outskirts of Hogsmeade, and she simultaneously wanted to know and not know what he was pondering. After a few minutes of walking with him in silence, she decided he wasn't in a very sharing mood and decided to think about other things.
Such as what had happened in the last few months. If someone had told her three years ago that she was going on a field trip with Riddle, she'd have shrugged it off, for he was her best friend. If someone had told her three months ago that she was going on a field trip with Riddle, she'd have been appalled with herself, for he was her mortal enemy. Now, however... there was definitely some animosity there, but he wasn't her enemy. He wasn't her friend either but as the days she spent with him lapsed, they slipped into the gray area that wasn't quite between enmity and friendship. She didn't know how to describe it, but she knew that he made her uncomfortable but she was also very comfortable around him, much more than she was around other people in this castle.
What had her life become?
He stopped and she grunted as she collided into his back, her vision temporarily going white as pain shot through her nose. "Give a warning if you're going to stop, you idiot," she hissed, eyes watering from the impact.
He didn't say anything, only slowly turned to face her, that eerie thoughtful expression still on his face. It then occurred to her that they were in the woods, somewhere between Diagon Alley and the train station. She was in the woods with Riddle, alone.
He'd gotten the information he'd wanted from her, and she witnessed him dabbling in Dark Magic. Additionally, he did not like her at all, so he had no incentive to spare her life. So she brandished her wand, almost tripping over her cloak as she took steps backward. "Stay back!"
"What are you doing?" he asked, irate.
"What am I doing?" she snarled. "What are you doing?"
He blinked. "You don't actually think I'm foolish enough to kill you here."
"I'm not letting my guard down that easily."
"You are an idiot."
"No, you're an idiot if you think I'm going down without a fight."
"Black, think reasonably for a minute. Why would I kill you if everyone will suspect me?"
"Nobody's going to suspect you! We snuck out, so as far as everyone's concerned, you're holed up in Hogwarts like a little golden Head Boy."
He let out a sigh of exasperation, not in the least bit fazed that she was pointing her wand at him. "People saw us walking together in Diagon Alley for five hours today. Additionally, if I was going to kill you, you wouldn't even get the chance to raise your wand."
"You just want to try to torture me before you strike me dead."
"Yes, Black. I want to torture you while there's a popular wizarding alley just five minutes away that would probably rush to your defense the moment you start screaming for help."
"Silencing Charms are a thing, as are Disillusionment Charms."
"A word of advice for the future. If you think someone's about to kill you, you don't give them ideas."
"Aha! So you admit it then. You are about to kill me."
"No, I said you think that-" he gave up midsentence, turning away from her and walking in the direction of the train station. Her eyes narrowed and she followed him, lighting the tip of her wand so that she could watch her path. He turned to see her examining the ground. "No, there isn't a hole dug in the ground for you to fall into, you absolute moron."
"Oh."
"Walk faster, or we miss the next train. And stop looking for dug up graves, it insults my intelligence."
"Insults your intelligence?" she asked, following him on the path through the woods. "How do you mean?"
"You seem to think I'm rash enough to hatch this poorly planned scheme to kill you. It insults my intelligence."
"How reassuring," she said dryly.
"I'm not here to reassure you."
"Well see," she clicked her tongue. "In my defense, you looked very sinister when you turned around."
"I was thinking. You should try it sometime."
"What were you thinking about?" she asked, curiosity finally winning over.
"How much I would like to kill you."
"That is not helping."
He walked in silence again, and though she was behind him and couldn't see his face, she could tell that once again he'd gone into deep thought. And then in five minutes, once again, he stopped abruptly. But, she sidestepped him (rather smartly, she was pleased with herself for that), avoiding collision.
She was going to berate him for doing that again but the words died in her throat when she saw the look on his face. It was intense, a deep hunger for something that she could tell was going to consume him.
"You have a knack for these kinds of things," he said, a statement, not a question.
"These kinds of things?" she asked.
"Magic."
"Well, I don't think you've noticed, but I am a witch," she laughed nervously.
"Dark Magic. Artifacts. Potions. The kinds of things that would make you an asset."
"Um. Perhaps?"
"You're wasting your talent by choosing to fade away into oblivion."
"Gee, thanks." Her muscles had tensed up with this interaction, not because she was afraid of being attacked, but because the topic being discussed made her antsy.
"You shouldn't."
"Okay. Thank you for the advice. I'll sleep on it."
"I'm being serious."
"Okay. Okay. I think that I know what it is you're trying to get at by saying all this, and I'm going to have to decline. Respectfully."
"I didn't offer you everything."
"I'm not that oblivious. I can read between the lines." She folded her arms, as though her elbows would be enough to protect herself from him. "I don't want to work with, or assist, you in any shape or form. Not more than I have to. Not short term, and definitely not long term."
He skipped past the part where he'd pretend otherwise and she realized this was probably the most candid conversation they would ever have, with no deflection or ruse. "Do you not think you're being a bit quick to give up? You don't know yet what it is."
"I have a good idea, based on the company you keep. The company you keep is company I've grown up with my entire life, and I'm not sure if you've noticed, but my life isn't the greatest."
"It could be."
"What you're aiming to do," she ignored him. "Involves not only the murder of innocents, Muggles, but the enablement of purebloods, a group that already has too much power to begin with."
"You are a pureblood."
"And that is why I know that I don't want to see a world where these people have more power than they should. Purebloods literally kill their own children for putting one toe out of line and they get away with it, no questions asked. It's absolutely mental. I can't support that at all."
"You're being dramatic," he scoffed. "It's easy to say this after being born with a silver spoon in your mouth."
"I didn't deny that I haven't benefited from it. I mean, in front of you, I probably seem like a spoiled rich girl pretending my life has been bloody tragic-"
"You do."
"Tom, you know what frustrates me? That for all this talk of me wasting my potential, we don't talk about how you're wasting your potential."
"I'm wasting my potential." There was an edge of fury in his voice, one that encouraged her to stop talking, but she barreled on regardless.
"I mean, you literally exemplify the opposite of what these people want. What pureblood society thinks of Muggle upbringing. I don't think you realize- you're so- it's just such a pity that this is the path you're going to choose to go down when you could literally turn the system on its head."
His expression turned blank, though his arched eyebrows and clenched jaw betrayed the way he was feeling about her. "Purebloods have the most power right now, however. The best way to-"
"Oh, so you want to earn your successes riding on the coattails of purebloods." The jibe slipped out before she could stop it.
"Haven't you done that all your life? Your abundance of knowledge, it came from all your family's resources."
"You-"
"This conversation is over."
"You can't just drop something like that and then say that the conversation is over," she snapped. "No, it's not over, and-" She let out a squawk as he grabbed her hand and a spinning sensation overtook her, and the next thing she knew, she was lying on a crumpled heap in the ground... on the edge of Hogsmeade.
She scrambled to her feet, grey eyes scanning her surroundings. It really was Hogsmeade... or an illusion because how did he-?
"You know Apparition." It was part-question and part-statement.
He smirked at her, and she was too astonished to be annoyed that he had landed stably on his feet, not a hair out of place, while she was a disheveled mess that was struggling to stand because everything was spinning. "Perhaps."
"How?"
"I learned it myself."
"But that's incredibly risky. Splinching and all that. And where did you- how did you- I'm so confused," she rubbed her temple, brain working sluggishly.
"Less talking, more walking." He placed his palm on her back and pushed her in the direction of Honeydukes, so that they could use the cellar's passage to go back to Hogwarts.
"That's crazy," she mumbled. "Learning it by yourself. Also, isn't it against the-"
"Let us strike a deal," he interrupted her, hand on her back still guiding her. "I will teach you Apparition if you teach me wandless and non-verbal magic decently enough."
She could think of so many reasons why she thought it would be a bad idea for him to teach her Apparition and for her to teach him non-verbal, wandless magic. And still, she found herself saying, "Deal."
***