Chapter Text
He landed awkwardly, bones crunching underneath his feet as he stumbled forward and almost lost his balance. Riddle hauled him backward before he could face plant on the ground, and Harry hit his chest, automatically tensing at the proximity. He needed a moment to steady himself before he could step away and create a bit more distance between them.
Riddle’s tie was still covering his eyes, so he couldn’t see anything, but he could see the vision of the room they were in in his mind. It was yet another proof that he’d definitely been here before. But how? He frowned. You needed to know parseltongue to enter, and as far as Harry was aware, Riddle was the only one who could speak it. Had Riddle taken him the first time too?
He bit his tongue. That made no sense. If he’d known Riddle in his past life, they had definitely been enemies, and an enemy would have no incentive to show him the chamber. Unless of course, he’d wanted to feed him to his basilisk, which, he supposed, was a possibility.
He shook his head, forcing himself to direct his thoughts to the matter at hand. He shouldn’t think about Riddle’s homicidal tendencies and their potential future animosity while alone with him – and his giant, deadly snake – in the chamber of secrets.
Riddle linked their arms together again, pulling him forward, and Harry was suddenly too busy trying to stay upright to worry about Riddle’s potential unsavory intentions. The floor was uneven and full of bones, and he couldn’t see anything, so he kept tripping, Riddle easily hauling him back to his feet every time.
“Are you enjoying this?” muttered Harry after he almost fell again, grabbing Riddle’s arm to steady himself.
“Immensely,” said Riddle, and Harry frowned, struggling to determine if he sounded amused or annoyed. Riddle pulled them to a stop before he could come to a conclusion, hissing next to his ear. Open. Harry shivered, listening as the door to the Chamber opened, and then they were in.
Their footsteps echoed as they walked, Riddle eventually pulling them to a stop. A low hissing came from his mouth, and Harry shivered at the eerie sound, then did so again when Riddle stepped closer, pressing his shoulder against Harry’s. His conversation with the basilisk didn’t last long, and once it was finished, he untied the tie covering Harry’s eyes.
Harry blinked, taking in his surroundings. The chamber looked exactly as it did in his dreams and visions, confirming without a shadow of a doubt that he’d been here before. It was long, with towering pillars entwined with serpents and green-tinted fog swirling through the air.
Harry took a deep breath as he walked forward, slowly approaching the huge statue of Salazar Slytherin on the other side. His footsteps echoed, and he shivered, unsure if it was because of the cold, the general creepiness of the place, or the fact that a giant basilisk was hiding in the statue and it would be too easy for Riddle to summon it.
He was a few meters away from the statue when it happened; the Chamber before him blurred and distorted. Suddenly, there was a basilisk laying on the ground, dead, and close to it was a diary, punctured by a fang and bleeding ink. The vision only lasted for a few seconds, everything going back to normal once Harry blinked.
It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was something, and it left him more uneasy and unsettled than it reasonably should. His heart was pounding in his chest, and dread rose in the pit of his stomach, his skin prickling. He recognized the diary – it was Riddle’s, but the word that flashed in his mind when he’d seen it wasn’t diary. It was horcrux. He shouldn’t know what that was, but he did, and he swallowed, pressing his nails into the skin on his palms hard enough to hurt.
He glanced at Riddle. He’d followed him to the statue, lingering a few meters away and watching him with that unpleasant calculating look in his eyes. Was that what it was then? Had Riddle made a horcrux? Was that the reason Harry had had the vision of the fifteen year old him in the Chamber? If it was… Harry wished he could be surprised, but all he felt in the light of this new revelation was a quiet resignation. Of course Riddle would make a horcrux, of course.
Harry frowned. But what about those letters he'd seen in his previous vision? He still thought they were important, that they might uncover another layer to whatever Riddle had been to him in his past life.
He imagined them in his mind, straining to see beyond the blurring, and just when he thought he could make out their shape, pain shot through his head, bad enough that he winced, swaying a little when dizziness followed. It was like someone had driven an icepick into his skull and was now slowly turning it around. I’d obviously been caused by his attempt to remember, but the pain didn’t let up even when he stopped thinking about the letters.
Dark spots danced in his vision, and his stomach churned with nausea. His hands were clammy, and he could feel himself trembling, his skin prickling. The chamber spun around him, and he stumbled a little, then quickly lowered himself to the ground, pulling his legs to his chest and leaning his head on his knees. The position made the pain a bit more bearable, but it didn’t solve anything, and he struggled to keep his breathing steady.
He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his back, failing to notice when Riddle had approached him. Curling into a tighter ball, Harry grasped his head, praying that whatever this was passed fast. It was already bad enough that it was happening in the Chamber of Secrets, but it was significantly worse that it was happening in front of Riddle.
Riddle who pried Harry’s hands away from his head and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up. His wand was drawn, but Harry was a little too out of it to be overly alarmed even when Riddle pointed it directly at him, casting a spell Harry couldn’t quite make out.
He didn’t like the look in Riddle’s eyes. It was too intense, too calculating, and… If this wasn’t Riddle, Harry would say it looked worried. It was Riddle though, so even the thought of him being concerned about Harry was laughable. Harry was, apparently, so muddled that he was seeing things he wanted to see, regardless of reality.
Riddle somehow figured out what the problem was, pressing his fingers to Harry’s skull and drawing small circles into his skin. Harry closed his eyes, unwilling to admit that it helped. It didn’t lower the pain, but it gave him something else to focus on, leaving behind a pleasant tingle.
He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but after a while, Riddle moved back. He grabbed Harry’s elbows, hauling him to his feet and steadying him when Harry inevitably almost fell. “Can you walk?” asked Riddle, leaning close, too close. His voice was quiet and soft as he said, right next to his ear: “I’ll carry you if you can’t.”
It was a threat, one that sent adrenaline rushing through him despite the sorry state he was in. “There’s no way you can carry me,” he mumbled, digging his fingers into Riddle’s arm as he struggled to stay upright. Nausea and dizziness weren’t a good combination, and he felt dangerously faint, his vision going dark at the edges.
“Should we find out?” asked Riddle, his lips twitching upwards. He was enjoying this, and Harry probably shouldn’t be as relieved by that as he was. But it was the response he expected, and that, at least, told him he wasn’t going completely insane.
“No,” said Harry, trying to stand up straighter, “I can walk.”
“Prove it then.”
Harry did. Or he tried to. He had no choice but to hold on to Riddle for dear life if he didn’t want to lose his balance, and their progress was slow even with his help. Harry was sure he was going to be very embarrassed once he recovered, but for now, all his energy went into staying upright and getting out of the chamber. He didn’t have any energy left to think about the loss of his dignity.
Their journey out of the chamber was a blur, and Harry needed a while after that to realize they weren’t going to the dungeons. “Where are we going?” he asked as Riddle pulled him up the stairs.
“Where do you think?”
“The infirmary,” muttered Harry. “Isn’t it too late?” He had no idea what time it was, but it was definitely after curfew, and Mrs. Williams might already be asleep.
Riddle didn’t reply, just helped him the rest of the way up the stairs and down the hallway that led to the infirmary. It was empty, Mrs. Williams having clearly already retired for the night. Riddle pushed him on the nearest bed before walking to her office door, knocking loudly. It took a while before the door opened, revealing Mrs. Williams in her nightgown. She raised her eyebrows. “Mr. Riddle. It’s a bit late, isn’t it?”
“It’s an emergency,” said Riddle, motioning to Harry.
Mrs. Williams glanced at him, then stepped back into her office, reemerging a moment later with a robe pulled over her nightgown. “What seems to be the problem?” she asked.
“My head,” said Harry.
“Did you hit it?”
Harry went to shake his head, then thought better of it, wincing. “No,” he said. “It just started hurting out of nowhere.” It was a lie, but what else could he say? It started hurting after I tried to remember my past life?
“Any nausea,” she asked, tilting his head back as she peered into his eyes, “dizziness?”
“Yes, and yes,” he said, hissing when she shone her wand in his eyes.
She frowned, then casted a few quick spells, shaking her head as she did so. “I can’t see any obvious injuries,” she said. “It’s likely a migraine. Drink this.” She pushed a potion into his hand, and Harry wasted no time before gulping it down. A few seconds passed with nothing happening, and then he could feel the pain numbing. It wasn’t completely gone, but it grew more bearable, and he let out a slow breath, reaching for his temples with his trembling fingers.
“Better?” asked Mrs. Williams.
Harry nodded.
“Alright,” she said, moving back. “Go to sleep now. And come back if it happens again.”
“Thanks Mrs. Williams,” muttered Harry, standing up.
“I wasn’t joking last time,” she said, “we should stop meeting so regularly.”
Harry flashed her a strained smile. “I’m trying,” he said, “it’s just not working out that well.”
“No,” said Mrs. Williams, “it isn’t.”
Wishing them goodnight, she disappeared back into her office, leaving him and Riddle alone in the infirmary. Riddle reached for his hand again, lacing their fingers together before pulling him toward the door. Harry went without protest, his energy thoroughly depleted.
The walk back to the dungeons was exhausting, and Harry was more than just a little relieved when they entered the Slytherin common room. His bed was calling his name, and he cursed the fact that he still had to shower and change out of his dress robe. He was exhausted at the mere thought, but he knew he’d regret it tomorrow if he didn’t.
Riddle let go of his hand once they reached the bedroom, walking to his trunk while Harry went to his. Their roommates were, thankfully, asleep. The only one still awake was Lestrange, his eyebrows shooting upwards as he saw them come in. The expression on his face was amused, and Harry realized, with a jolt, that he knew. He knew what he and Riddle were doing, and at this point, was there anyone who didn’t?
He tried not to think about it as he walked to the bathroom, Riddle close behind him, and he stubbornly kept his thoughts away from the subject as he showered and brushed his teeth. Riddle joined him by the sink a little before he was done, pressing his shoulder against Harry’s as he brushed his own teeth. Harry was too tired to bother moving away, knowing Riddle wouldn’t let it go that easily and he was too tired to put up a fight.
He tried leaving once he was done, but Riddle grabbed his wrist, holding him in place. Harry considered prying his hand away for a whole second before giving into his fate, too tired to do anything about Riddle’s clinginess right now. He let him lead him back to the bedroom afterward too, tiredly staggering toward his bed. Riddle pulled him back before he could get anywhere close though, pushing him on his own bed.
Harry didn’t see it coming at all, and it happened a little to fast for him to properly process what was going on. As such, he was blinking at the canopy for a total of five seconds before his confusion lifted and he realized the reality of his situation. He tried to sit up, but Riddle pushed him down again, keeping his hand on his shoulder as he closed the curtains around them.
Harry absently thought that he should probably be panicking at this point. He was lying on Riddle’s bed, with Riddle practically keeping him hostage, which would be usually enough for him to be cautious. There should be some adrenaline at least, but instead, there was nothing. The potion hadn’t just numbed the pain in his head, it partly numbed his emotions too and his exhaustion did the rest of the work. It felt like he was wrapped in a warm cocoon, and he didn’t find it in himself to be overly alarmed by his current predicament even if he, logically, should be.
He remained unalarmed even as Riddle lay down and pulled him closer, throwing a possessive arm over him. They were pressed against each other, their legs tangling together, and instead of freaking out, which should be the reasonable response here, Harry felt comfortable, almost safe. He didn’t have much time to unpack that one though, already half dozing off.
He had a nightmare that night, but he couldn’t remember what it was about once he jolted awake, his heart hammering in his chest. His head was still hurting, but the pain was nothing in comparison to yesterday, dull and distant instead of sharp. He blinked at the canopy above his head, needing a moment to realize he was lying in Riddle’s bed. Sitting up in alarm, he got tangled in the bedsheets and almost lost his balance as he tried to move closer to the edge of the bed.
He looked around, realizing that the bedroom was empty save for Riddle who was calmly standing in front of the mirror, tying his tie. Harry glanced at the clock on the nightstand, then cursed and jumped off the bed, stumbling a little on his way to his trunk. Riddle’s lips twitched upwards, and Harry pressed his lips together, shooting him a hard look. He knew Riddle didn’t wake him up on purpose, probably hoping Harry would miss the train.
It was, unfortunately, a real possibility at this point. He was in such a hurry that he didn’t bother getting out of his pajamas at all, throwing his robe over them and hurrying to the door. He didn’t get far, Riddle grabbing his wrist and pulling him back. Harry stumbled. “Riddle, I swear...” he started, but he couldn’t finish, Riddle shutting him up with his mouth.
The kiss was hungry, Riddle licking his lip before pushing his tongue into his mouth. Harry suppressed a moan as it deepened, Riddle’s teeth scratching at his lower lip, and he curled his fingers into his robe, tilting his head back to give him better access despite knowing he shouldn’t be doing this. He wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but they were both breathless once it was over. “You should stay here,” said Riddle, pressing his forehead against Harry’s.
Harry closed his eyes, trying not to be tempted. He knew what Riddle was doing. He was purposefully showing him what they could be doing with their time if he stayed. They’d have Slytherin mostly for himself, and they would be able to take full advantage of that. But… Harry shook his head. “I can’t,” he said, his voice coming out more shaky than he would like. He needed space to think things over without Riddle breathing over his neck or he was going to go insane.
Riddle stepped back, not hiding his displeasure, and that unpleasant calculating look was back in his eyes too. Before Harry could stop himself, he rose to his tippy toes, pressing a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. He had just enough time to see the surprised look on his face before he ran to the door, leaving the bedroom without sparing him another glance.