Harry Potter ficlet part 1
First part of a short ficlet involving Tom Riddle, Harry Potter, and unashamed fun with time travel and animagus forms. Started this over a year ago, am re-writing it in bits and pieces when I don’t feel like working on anything else. Not related to my other Harry Potter fanfics in any way.
Mild warnings for Tom Riddle’s insanity and gratuitous use of italics.
Introduction
“Open”, he hissed, and the stone blocking his way parted like the Red Sea before Moses. Tom Riddle stepped through, a prince-a king-come to claim his birthright.
Slytherin’s Chamber stretched before him.
Elation bloomed in his chest, triumph burning through his veins. He felt like laughing. He didn’t. He had to speak for this next part. He’d laugh after, once his victory was assured.
He threw his arms out wide, head back to smile up at the statue, reveling in the victory just at his fingertips, so close it was a taste, thick and sweet in his mouth.
“Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four,” he enchanted, powerful voice echoing off the stone walls, the granite snakes bearing silent witness.
Nothing happened.
Tom waited.
Nothing happened.
Smile faltering, Tom’s arms sank slowly back to his sides.
Nothing happened.
Fury rose up readily as victory flagged. This was his right; he’d worked for it, discovered it where no one else had, come to claim what should be his.
A voice cut through his thoughts, heading off the explosion of temper he’d gladly have indulged in.
‘That won’t work, you know.’
Tom spun, a full circle. Nothing. No one. He was alone.
‘Down here, genius.’
Movement in the shadows by the base of Salazar’s statue. Tom started, stared. A cat. A bloody wildcat, easily the size of a dog.
There should have been a snake, dammit.
The cat opened its mouth, lips pulled back to expose neat rows of sharp teeth. Was it Tom’s imagination, or was that a parody of a smile?
‘Not what you were expecting?’
The cat was talking to him. He could hear it, not like snakes, which sounded just like other people, unless he concentrated until he could hear the steady hiss behind their words. No, the cat was speaking directly into his mind.
“How did you get in here?”
Wait. That probably wasn’t the best thing to ask. He wanted to make a good impression. That question was neither intimidating nor a show of superior brain power. Oh well. Too late to take it back now. Tom glared, daring the animal to make a smart remark.
The cat blinked at him guilelessly, startlingly green eyes glowing in the dim light of Slytherin’s Chamber.
“Answer me!” Tom demanded, bringing his wand to bear.
The cat yawned, sharp teeth flashing again. ‘I could have killed you, you know,’ it offered blandly. ‘I still might.’ A wordless hex had left Tom’s wand before the thing was even finished speaking. It flew straight and true, streaking straight towards its mark… and straight through it, impacting on the stone behind the cat in dazzling sparks of light. The animal flicked an ear at him lazily. ‘Come now. Do you really think there’s anything you could possibly do to hurt me?’
Tom bared his teeth, readying another hex. He could certainly try.
The cat snorted and stood, stalking out of the shadows by the statue’s base. It had thick, tawny grey fur, black tipped ears, and a short, stubby tail. A lynx.
‘Like I said, Tom,’ the Lynx continued, and it had the gall to sound amused, ‘that won’t work.’
“Who are you? How do you know my name?”
This time the showing of teeth was definitely no smile. Tom took a prudent step backward. The farther away he was, the more time he’d have to react if that thing tried anything.
‘So kind of you to ask,’ it purred. ‘For now, you can call me Ash. And I know much more about you than you could possibly be comfortable with.’
And the day, Tom thought with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, hard started out so well.
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Three guess who the lynx is, and the last two don’t count.