When September Ends

Chapter 3: Harry Potter:Harry Riddle

Tom had left again. Tom had locked him in his room again. Sure, by this point-how long had it been now? Days? Weeks? Months since he'd been taken? It was probably a bad sign that he'd already lost all sense of time-Harry expected to be locked up, after all the man had shown himself to be only selectively delusional, but the least the bastard could do was give him more room to roam. Of course, he supposed, that would have made it too easy for him to escape: it was simple, after all, to unlock a door from the inside. Annoyed, Harry turned onto his side as he lounged in the bed, the remote belonging to his new TV digging into his ribs.

He excavated it from beneath him and, with nothing better to do since he didn't have the patience at current to read nor the energy to resume circling and screaming like a lunatic himself, the raven flipped it on and began surfing channels. Looking for nothing in particular at first. Switching from pointless infomercials to documentaries on designer Canadian drugs to random cartoons. Then the thought occurred to him to look into the news: sure, he was now a state or so over from his home but maybe there was coverage of his case being broadcast somewhere.

Harry hoped that there was. He was nineteen, sure, and no longer a child but at this point he wanted nothing more than to hear his parents' voices. He'd flicked through a handful of news channels before finally finding the right one.

He'd stumbled on what looked like a press conference of some form, his father and mother standing at a podium with his godfather beside them and a number of uniformed police behind them. His mother was crying and his father held her, looking very drawn and grim himself.

"-Anyone who might have seen him we beg you, please tell someone! Our son isn't just another teenaged run away! He would never have left home without telling us! If someone took him for whatever reason please, don't hurt him: he's never lifted a hand against anyone and doesn't deserve to suffer and if money is what you want we'll pay! Anything! Anything, just please let him come home!" No longer able to speak through her tears his mother buried her face in his father's chest.

"Harry," his father's voice, too, sounded as if he were holding back tears, "please, if you have left on your own for some reason we aren't mad at you. Get into contact with us as soon as you can. We just...need to know that you're alright."

The image of the press conference faded out to a still shot photograph of him with text underneath explaining the details of his case including when he'd gone missing, where he'd last been seen and a tip line through which anyone with information on the case could get into contact with the proper authorities. As the news in front of him transitioned into some unimportant story about a blue-chip corporation Harry stared blankly at the screen, blinking rapidly in a futile effort to assuage the burning sensation in his eyes. Barely registering the tears which managed to escape and run down his cheeks, dripping onto the immaculate white fabric of the pillow he'd been clutching to his chest.

His parents. Harry had been so wrapped up in his own predicament that he hadn't for a moment spared a thought for how his disappearance might be affecting them. He was their only son! Their little boy-being nineteen didn't stop his mother from constantly referring to him that way-and he'd just suddenly vanished with no word or warning. He really hoped that they didn't actually think he'd ever do that of his own volition. That he'd ever put them through that sort of worry. Leave without telling them first. Without letting them know where he'd be going.

And what about Tom? Sure the man hadn't done anything to him yet aside from drug him and kidnap him off the streets and sure he'd provided him with objects which he could easily have used as weapons on multiple occasions so far but how long would that continue to be the case? And what about later on when the man's delusion dictated him properly 'recovered'? When he'd be expected to sleep beside. Sleep with him.