the rise

chapter eight

Harry had a fading idea of how he and Thomas Riddle ended up sitting by the black lake that night.

Tom had a knife. Harry didn't know where he was hiding it before, but now it seemed he felt he didn't need to hide it.

"People are extreemely boring" Tom said.

He said it quite loudly and Harry felt slightly wounded, because last time he checked he was still a person.

"Okay" he replied.

Tom looked at him. The moonlight sharpened his features and Harry found himself gazing at the silver that the light spilled over his dark hair.

"We should kill someone"

Harry ignored the flare of excitement because his legs felt like they were filling with tar. He had accepted his unimportance to Thomas the moment he realised how unimportant he was.

"Why me? Why anyone? If we are all so boring Thomas why do you need me?"

Tom looked away. Harry regretted whatever he had just said because he still wanted, needed, Thomas.

"I dont"

No.

"I know"

"You know?"

Harry's throat was closing in on itself.

"I know you don't. And I know you never will"

"You don't need me"

Yes. Yes.

"Yes I do"

"You and I Potter. We are just alike, the same. You don't need me any more than I need you"

"I need you alot."

There was silence. Harry could hear some birds flapping into the wind above their heads.

"You and I Potter. So. Very. Alike"

Harry could hear his heart pounding in his ears, in time with the birds.
Tom, could Tom need him? No.

"You don't need me"

"You don't need me. You just want to need me, or you just want... me"

"You want me?"

"I..." he stopped talking for a long while. Harry just held his breath. "Yes"

Harry was sure his heart stopped beating, whatever goodness left in him died in that moment and then when he came alive again he wasn't sure what he was.

"Let's kill Dumbledore"