Chapter 16

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Tom was already out of bed by the time Harry managed to open his eyes and keep them open. The room had fallen into darkness, leaving Tom to pace in nothing but the dim embers of the hearth.

Harry sat up, folding his legs to his chest and hugging them close. With the fire so far down and the bed so empty he was already becoming chilled.

Or perhaps it had something to do with what they just seen.

It had been easy to open his mind to the memories, to let them flow as her remembered them. If he did nothing but stand back and let it play out, just observe and not try to be a part of it all, then it all happened as it had before.

It was Tom's response that had been a bit of a shock, though, perhaps it shouldn't have been...Harry had honestly expected anger. Not directed at him but simply in being shown the monster that Tom had somehow grown into. Confusion was also warranted. Sure. It was easy to see the twisted man that Voldemort was, how he relished his power and the fear he held over others, and think that it had been his plan all along to fall down a dark and destructive path.

Clearly Tom knew the path he had been traveling down was dark. How could he not? It must have been quite a shock to realize, though, that such a path could be just as destructive to himself as it was to those he wished to control.

Every time Tom passed before the banked fire of the heat the embers flared, throwing the room into a slightly brighter shade of gold before snuffing back down to glimmers.

He probably didn't even know he was doing it.

"Tom?" He called out when it seemed that Tom was too lost in his own thought to see that Harry was awake.

Tom jerked as though stung, but quickly recovered and before Harry could even blink he was there, leaning onto the bed, hands hovering over Harry as though afraid to touch him before settling on cupping his face.

"Harry, I..." he began, but could not seem to find the words to keep going.

"It's okay," Harry said with a little smile, "I'm okay."

"It is is not okay!" Tom recoiled, though he did not leave the bed or release his gentle hold on Harry, "it's anything but...I..."

Harry was already shaking his head, "I told you...you're not...him."

"That...thing," Tom said after a brief pause, he did not exactly hunch in on himself, though he had always held himself so tall and put together that the slight slouch of his shoulders and tipping of his head seemed so pronounced. "I want to say that I cannot understand how I...became that...that thing. What was it that you asked? How many horcruxes I had made?" Tom took a deep breath, when he looked back at Harry there was so much sorrow in his dark eyes that Harry's breath caught in his chest.

"How much of your soul can you rip out before you stop being human?"

Harry swallowed dryly, his voice was shallow and hoarse, he said, "but you didn't. You're still you, not him."

"Yes," Tom said, softly, but desperation rang in his tone, "I just have to make sure that it stays that way."

That seemed like such an obvious statement that Harry simply shrugged. Of course Tom wouldn't become that. He had already changed so much, and now that he'd seen how much of a monster Voldemort was there shouldn't be any reason for him to continue down that path.

Tom, evidently, did not think it would be so simple.

He was pensive for several more minutes, his grip on Harry not letting up though his dark eyes were unfocused and far away.

"I know what to do," Tom said after several silent minutes. He rose from the bed, pulling Harry up behind him. They stopped only long enough to put on shoes and grab their cloaks before Tom was leading them out of the common room door and down the cold dark hall to the main stairs.

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