FIC: Abandoned: The Re-Write ~ Harry Potter ~ HPLV/HPTR ~ Mature ~ Chapter 2

[batsutousai]

Title: Abandoned: The Re-Write
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: M/R
Main Pairing: Harry/Tom, Harry/Voldemort
Side Pairings: Ginny/Theodore Nott, Seamus/Blaise Zabini, past-Ron/Hermione, Hermione/Luna, others
Warnings: SLASH, mentions of child abuse/rape/torture, language, character death, minor Dumbledore bashing, Grey-to-Dark!Harry
Summary: A complete re-write of Abandon: Before the start of his seventh year, Harry Potter is abandoned in London by his muggle family and finds himself befriending Lord Voldemort.

A/N: I feel like I should put in here, that because this rewrite is aiming to be a bit more plausible than the original dumpster fire fic, not all of these chapters are going to match up with the original. (Aka, all of the sitting at a café and Tom hexing passers-by while Harry works on homework has been removed, though a café does feature, starting this chapter.)
That being said, when a chapter gives a nod back to events in the original in an obvious way, I'll let you know which chapter(s) that is in the original.

-0-
Chapter Two: Visitors
-0-

Harry was leaning against the doorframe of the first floor common room, watching the end of the food fight. Rosie, his fellow housekeeper, was in there, yelling at the lot of them while Harry and Zack made quiet bets about the outcome. Admittedly, they had been making the bets since before Rosie had stormed past, giving the both of them dirty looks, and started yelling at the crowd of idiots who'd thought a food fight was the best use of their time.

"Is that a bottle of cleaning solution?" Zack wondered as Rosie pulled something out of her apron.

"Bug spray," Harry corrected, having recognised the shape and colour from his cleaning yesterday afternoon, after he got back from the alley. He was supposed to start cleaning the place again in a little over an hour – Rosie had explained that the best time was just after lunch, when most of the guests were out working or visiting the city – and Rosie was probably going to make him work on this room as punishment for his not stopping them.

The door downstairs opened and both men glanced back towards the stairs, but decided that the madness in front of them was more interesting than which guest had returned for lunch.

"Uh-oh." Zack winced as Rosie shoved the bottle of bug spray in the face of one guy who was being particularly snarky. "She's not going to–"

Rosie depressed the lever and sprayed the gunk in the guy's mouth.

Harry snickered while Zack gagged in sympathy. "At least it's non-toxic," he offered through his amusement.

"But it tastes awful!"

Harry raised a disbelieving eyebrow at the other. "Don't tell me she's sprayed that in your mouth?"

Zack grimaced and Harry snickered again. "You laugh now, kid, but wait until you're the one with a bottle in your face!"

"In that unlikely event, I will endeavour to keep my mouth shut until she's lowered it, thanks."

Zack eyed where Rosie was walking back towards them, a storm in her eyes. "Here's your chance."

Harry pasted on his best 'I'm the Boy-Who-Lived and you love me' smile. "Rosie, that was awesome! I was too scared to go in there, but you just–"

"Oh, save it," Rosie snapped, but there was the faintest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of her eyes as she brushed past them.

Zack gave him a wide-eyed look. "Wow. That was..."

Harry shrugged. "I rock."

"You're a fool," a new voice said from behind them.

Harry and Zack both glanced over their shoulders at the newcomer. Zack blinked in confusion at the man standing there, but Harry choked. "Fuck!"

Tom Riddle smirked. "Hello again, Harry."

"You–!" Harry shook his head and gestured wordlessly. "You– Fuck!"

Zack coughed. "Your boyfriend?" he suggested.

Riddle sneered at the man. "Try again, muggle."

Zack frowned. "Muggle?"

Harry shook his head, then stalked past Riddle and started towards the stairs.

"Potter!" Riddle shouted. "Don't you walk away from me!"

Harry shot the man a disgusted look. "And I was told you were some sort of genius," he snapped back, then started up the stairs.

Riddle hissed wordlessly, then stormed after the younger wizard. Two landings up, he spotted Harry leaning against the doorway to an open room and followed the teen in. As soon as the door was closed, Riddle threw up some privacy wards, then cornered Harry against a wall. "You will answer me," he ordered.

"Or what? You'll kill me?" Harry offered him an unimpressed look.

Riddle bared his teeth and shoved a familiar wand under Harry's chin. "Crucio."

Harry bit down, hard, on his bottom lip to silence the scream that demanded to get out. Blood coated his taste buds as the thick liquid dribbled down the back of his throat.

Riddle ended the curse after a moment and Harry groaned and would have collapsed if the other hadn't been holding him up against the wall. "Answer me," Riddle whispered.

Harry spat blood in the bastard's face. "Fuck you."

Riddle narrowed his eyes and shoved Harry's wand harder against the soft skin under his chin. "You want another round?"

Harry grinned, blood coating his teeth. "I'll settle for you leaving."

Riddle hissed in anger and pulled the wand away. "Why make this so painful for yourself?" he asked in a voice that was trying to be gentle.

"I'm a closet masochist," Harry returned without pause.

Riddle blinked, momentarily thrown, then snorted and stepped back. "Is that so?"

Harry fought for a moment to remain on his feet, but gave it up as a bad job and sank to the ground, wiping at the blood on his lips with the bottom of his too-large t-shirt. "If I tell you, you'll just kill me," he muttered to his knees. "The longer I keep the answer to myself, the longer I have to kill you." He looked up at the Dark Lord then, eyes burning. "Bring the torture, Voldemort. I'll suffer anything you throw at me for the chance to rid the world of your hatred."

Riddle considered the teen, twirling Harry's wand between two fingers. "And if I just kidnapped you and tossed you in a cell? You'd have no chance to best me, and I could torture you all I wished."

Harry shrugged. "Eventually you'd kill me or I'd go insane," he replied. "But I wouldn't tell you. Even if I couldn't kill you, at least I'd still win."

Riddle breathed an angry noise through his nose, then tossed the boy his wand and stormed from the room.

Harry closed his eyes and knocked his head back against the wall. One battle for me, he thought, hard-won though it was. I hurt so bad.

"Harry?" Zack asked, head peeking into the teen's room.

Harry glanced up and smiled at the other, trying to keep his mouth mostly closed to hide the blood surely coating his teeth. "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

Harry nodded and forced himself to his feet. "Just fine. Shouldn't you be heading for bed about now?"

Zack nodded. "Yeah. Just making sure that guy didn't stab you or something. Is he always like that?"

Harry's smile turned bitter. "He was actually pretty well-behaved today."

Zack's eyes widened. "He's not a friend or anything, is he?"

"Rival," Harry replied easily, shuffling towards the tiny loo and trying not to wince as his whole body screamed in pain.

Zack nodded, eyeing Harry with concern. "He didn't do anything to you, did he?"

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "He only used words. I'm fine. Go to sleep."

Zack nodded again, not looking entirely convinced, but he reached in and pulled the door closed.

Harry breathed in relief and let himself crumple next to the toilet. He fumbled with the toilet seat for a moment, then leaned over and threw up, sick from the pain and swallowed blood. He took a moment to be grateful for whatever deity might be watching over him that the rooms he shared walls with were both empty, then reached up and flushed, resting his cheek on the edge of the bowl.

Once he felt a bit better and the aftershocks had lessened, Harry forced himself to his feet again and walked back out into the room proper. He leant down with a grimace and picked up his wand, which he then shoved into the wrist holder Mad-Eye had given him for Christmas. He took a few more minutes to steady himself, then he left his room to hunt down Rosie; physical labour would help him get his mind off what had just happened, even if it hurt.

-0-0-0-

Two days later, Harry got more visitors, though they were the far more friendly sort.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said as soon as Harry opened his room door.

Harry grinned. "Tonks. Remus! Hi!"

Remus chuckled and reached over to ruffle Harry's mop of hair. "Hey there, cub."

Bill, who watched the front desk during the day on weekends, smiled at him around Remus before turning and heading back down to his post. Harry knew that, after Riddle's visit, Zack had told the other three who watched the desk that they should make sure no one else got in who Harry wasn't cool with. While a part of Harry bristled at how protective the others in the hostel were being, a much larger part of him was better for their concern; and it was a valid concern, since Harry had as many enemies as he had friends.

Harry glanced back at his bare room, then stepped out into the hallway, closing his door behind him. "We can visit in the common room," he explained to their curious looks. "There's not really room in there for three people."

The other two nodded in understanding and they relocated to the, thankfully empty, common room. They pulled three fluffy chairs over to the corner opposite the telly and all sat down in them.

"How have you been?" Remus asked immediately. "I know in your letter you said you were fine, but..."

Harry smiled at his honorary godfather. "I'm brilliant. The people here are all really friendly and there's always someone willing to talk, but they're not constantly checking in on me or anything. I love it."

Remus smiled back at that comment and visibly relaxed.

"They're a bit protective of you, though," Tonks commented, nodding to where a sleepy Zack was peering into the common room.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Zack, go back to sleep."

Zack grunted and stepped more fully into the room. "Uh-huh," he mumbled, looking over Harry’s guests. "I'm Zack."

"Remus, Harry's godfather," Remus replied with an easy smile. "This is Tonks, a friend of mine."

"Tonks is a bobby," Harry added, nonchalant.

Zack froze and gave Tonks a brief worried look. "Uh, yeah? Right. Nice meeting you." He turned and high-tailed it out of the room.

Harry snickered and relaxed back into his chair. At the confused looks from Remus and Tonks, he explained, "Zack deals in drugs sometimes to pay for food. He's understandably nervous around police."

Tonks snorted. "You just wanted to get rid of him."

Harry shrugged. "Lucky for me you're really police, then, isn't it?" He snorted in amusement as he heard hurried footsteps out in the hallway. "Even if you work for a different government."

Remus chuckled and shook his head. "I'm glad you're making friends, cub. I'm especially glad that they're watching out for you."

"Wish you'd move into Headquarters, though," Tonks commented. When Harry frowned, she added, "I know, Harry, I hate staying there too, but it's safe."

"Sirius hated that house," Harry muttered. "He hated being trapped in there. I don't want to be forced to be stuck there myself. I can't become another Sirius just because people want me dead." He waved around the room. "Look, I'm safe here. No one knows where I am, and they'd never think to come here. Not for me."

Tonks sighed. "That's about what Mad-Eye said," she admitted. "He also added that you're more than capable of taking care of yourself, if it came down to it."

"Albus isn't happy about it," Remus added quietly. "He wanted to come storming out here and drag you back to your relatives himself."

"Mad-Eye stopped him, though," Tonks continued. "He pulled him off to the side and they had an argument about Merlin-knows-what. But Albus agreed to let you be. He did ask that someone come out and see in person that you're okay."

Harry nodded in understanding. "I'm glad it was you two," he offered. "Kingsley would have been okay too, I suppose, but I don't much care to see any of my professors over the summer, and Mad-Eye would probably terrify everyone in the building."

"He's got no subtlety," Tonks complained.

Harry grinned. "He's bloody insane."

"Is it true that he's been training you?" Tonks wanted to know.

Harry considered her for a moment, then nodded. "Since last summer. He gave me a bunch of reading at the end of this past school year, told me to contact him when I finished it."

"How are you coming on that?" Remus asked.

Harry winced. "Uhm, all but one of the books are at the Dursleys'?"

"Do you remember the titles? We could go to Diagon to get you new copies."

Harry shrugged. "Not really. I'm, uh... I'm gonna go by after my birthday and get them. A couple of other things got left there, too; stuff which isn't so easily replaced."

"And what do you intend to do until then?" Remus asked with a fond smile.

"My summer work?" Harry rubbed at the back of his neck. "Maybe do some reading for this year."

Remus sighed and shook his head.

"Mad-Eye's going to have your head if he finds out you're not doing the work he gave you," Tonks pointed out with a scary little smile.

"Do me a huge favour, then, and don't tell him," Harry snarled.

Tonks laughed.

Remus chuckled. "He'll find out eventually."

"With any luck, that'll be after I get my books back. Then I can appease him by doing the reading."

"The only way to appease him is by letting him kick your sorry arse," Tonks reminded him and Harry winced in memory of many such times from the past.

"Well, I won't tell him," Remus promised.

The two wizards both turned to stare at Tonks, who grinned. "Yeah, alright. He won't find out from me. Swear."

Harry stared at her for a moment, then leant back in his chair. "Hn. Well, only the three of us know that my books have been left behind, so if Mad-Eye comes around, threatening my head, there's only so many people who could have told him." He narrowed his eyes at the two adults. "I know where you live."

"I'm shivering in my boots," Tonks replied drily.

Remus chuckled and glanced down at his watch. "It's about lunch time. We could go out?"

"Sure," Harry agreed, standing from his chair. "There's a pub 'round the corner what serves some really good sandwiches for the lunch crowd."

"How's their supper menu?" Tonks asked with a knowing smile as they made their way down towards Harry's room, so the teen could grab his money pouch.

"Okay. Only been there once."

"You've been drinking?" Remus asked. When Harry grinned over his shoulder at him, the werewolf huffed. "Who's been buying you alcohol?"

"Usually? Mad-Eye."

"That–!"

Harry snickered and patted his godfather's arm. "Calm down, Moony. Mad-Eye's responsible enough," he fibbed, recalling the one time the two of them had a drinking challenge, "and I've only had one beer at the pub. With supper."

Remus huffed and ruffled Harry's hair. "Just don't go overboard."

Harry nodded. "I know. Now come on; if we wait too much longer, we'll have to wade through the lunch rush."

-0-0-0-

Harry went shopping on Monday, tired of his housemates harping on him about his wardrobe. He was just heading down the stairs when Zack poked his sleepy head out of his room. "You want company?" he asked around a yawn.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Zack. Seriously."

Zack grinned, unrepentant. "That a no?"

"Go to sleep. And stop hovering about my head." Harry huffed and started down the stairs.

"Hey!" Zack called, stumbling to the top of the steps. Harry turned around, half worried that he'd have to catch the other. "You've had four visitors, counting your uncle, and two of them looked ready to kill you. And those other two – the bobby and your godfather – they were worried about you."

Harry sighed and leant against the creaking railing. "Remus and Tonks were worried about me," he conceded, "but they also left me here, because they know I can take care of myself."

Zack ran a hand over his face. "We still worry."

Harry smiled at the admission that all his housemates were worried about him. "I know. And, really, I'm grateful." When Zack shot him a disbelieving look, Harry laughed. "No, really! I'm glad you all care; I just need you lot to back off a bit, you know? Stop hovering." He gave Zack a pointed look.

Zack snorted, then turned and walked back to his room, waving at someone down the hall.

Harry rolled his eyes and continued his way down the stairs. He waved at Becca as he passed her. "I'm off."

"If you're not back by one, I'm sending Rosie for you," Becca replied, not glancing up from her magazine.

Harry rolled his eyes again and hurried out the door before anyone else could ooze concern all over him.

He was almost to the clothing shop that he'd been told to try when he felt like someone was staring at him. It only took him a couple seconds to spot Riddle in the early afternoon crowd and he clenched his jaw as the Dark Lord started toward him.

"Well, hello, Harry," Riddle said almost cheerfully.

"Don't you have people to torture?" Harry snapped.

"You seem pretty tortured to me."

Harry huffed and silently conceded the point; while he wasn't in physical agony when the Dark Lord was around any more, the man's presence was doing a number on his nerves. "What do you want?"

"Answers," Riddle replied without missing a beat, then smirked. "Barring that pleasure, I will settle for tormenting you by following you everywhere."

"Surely you have better things to do than follow me while I shop for clothing!"

Riddle raised one perfect eyebrow. "No."

Harry stared at the older wizard for a moment, disbelieving, then threw his hands up in surrender and led the way into the shop. He took a moment to look around the large building, uncertain where, exactly, he should start.

"You act as though you've never been shopping before, Potter."

Harry shot the Dark Lord an irritated look. "The only clothes shopping I've ever done was when I got my robes for first year."

Riddle considered the too-large clothing the teen wore. "I'll believe that." He looked around the shop with a critical eye, then nodded and, grabbing Harry's arm, started off towards the section he thought would most likely fit the small wizard.

"What the–!" Harry snatched his arm back as soon as Riddle stopped next to a rack. "What do you think you're doing?"

Riddle shot him an irritated look. "Finding you clothing." He pulled out a couple pairs of trousers and dumped them into Harry's arms before dragging the staring teen over to another rack.

Harry let himself be dragged around, in parts disbelieving and terrified. Voldemort was clothes shopping with him in muggle London.

Voldemort. Clothes shopping. Muggle London.

Harry started laughing. He looked over at Riddle, who cocked an eyebrow at him, and that just made him laugh harder, because the Dark Lord was holding a shirt in either hand and it was just so fucking funny.

Riddle shook his head and put the shirts back, then stepped forward and firmly smacked Harry upside his head. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled while the Gryffindor got a hold of himself again and calmed down. Once he seemed sane again, Riddle commented, "I thought I was the insane one."

Harry snorted and shook his head. "Sorry. You're catching."

Riddle sneered. "How have you survived as long as you have?"

Harry grinned. "I have mad skills," he said, using a phrase he'd heard from Zack.

Riddle blinked, not certain how to respond to that, then shook his head and pointed at the changing rooms. "Can I trust you in there by yourself?"

Harry rolled his eyes and carried his pile over. Ten minutes later, he'd discarded the extra clothing – Riddle had grabbed two or three sizes in some things – and was back among the racks, trying to find the older man.

He finally found him amongst the hats. As soon as Riddle saw him, he strode over and stuck a fedora on his head, then stepped back and considered him.

Harry blinked. "Are you... enjoying yourself?"

Riddle sneered and switched the fedora out for a newsboy cap, then stepped back to consider Harry again.

"Alert the Prophet," Harry offered sarcastically, "Voldemort's weakness is clothes shopping."

Riddle rolled his eyes – actually rolled his eyes! – and left to put the fedora away. He came back with a small pile of newsboy caps in different colours and patterns and traded them for the clothing in Harry's arms. "Mirror," he directed, then wandered off again.

Harry watched him go, bemused, then walked over to the mirror and switched the caps around to see which ones he liked best. At least he's got fashion sense, Harry admitted, if only to himself. Everything Riddle had picked out looked good on Harry, and while he hadn't seen the fedora, he had a feeling that the caps looked better; he knew for certain they looked better than Zack's beret.

Harry picked out three caps – one in black, one a dark maroon with goldenrod fleur-de-lis, one in tan – then wandered off to, once again, hunt down the Dark Lord.

He found him looking at sunglasses. "Looking for yourself?"

Riddle glanced up at him. "Of course you'd pick the maroon," he muttered, turning back to the glasses. "I have no use for these." He pulled off a pair and held them out to Harry. "Put them on."

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "I need prescription glasses."

"Are you, or are you not, a wizard?"

"I'm underage."

"I am not. Put them on."

Harry took the sunglasses and switched them out with his normal eyewear. As he'd expected, he wasn't able to see anything more than blobs of darkened colours, but he figured pointing that out to the Dark Lord wouldn't do anything good for him.

"Try these," Riddle ordered.

Harry pulled off the sunglasses and squinted for a moment, then snatched the new pair Riddle was holding out to him, letting Riddle take the first pair out of his other hand. Harry felt himself being stared at for a long moment, then a wand was touching each lens and Harry could see clearly. "Huh. Cool."

Riddle was giving him an odd look. "Your vision is utter shit," he deadpanned, then snatched Harry's old glasses out of his hand, ignoring Harry's irritated, "Hey!" He tapped both of those lenses with his wand, then held them up next to the sunglasses. Another tap later and the crap glasses that Harry had owned since second year had new, stylish gold frames.

"Uh... Thanks..." Harry said as Riddle handed the glasses back over. He switched the glasses out, then looked at himself in the tiny mirror attached to the glasses stand. "Wow..." He turned back toward the Dark Lord, grinning. "Thanks," he said again, with more feeling.

Riddle let out an irritated hiss, then dumped the pile of clothing he was holding into Harry's arms. "You owe me lunch."

Harry chuckled and started toward the checkout. "Okay. Anywhere in particular you have in mind?" Mad-Eye would probably kill him if he ever found out he was agreeing to lunch with the Dark Lord, but this was either a really weird dream, or Riddle had been drugged; either way, he figured he might as well play along for a bit, maybe figure out what the bloody hell was going on.

"I will apparate us."

Harry considered Riddle suspiciously. "I'm not going to end up in some dungeon at the end of the day, am I?"

"Perhaps next week."

Harry snorted, more amused than anything else. "Then yeah, sure." He paid for his new clothing and then, on Riddle's orders, slipped into the loo and changed into one of the outfits he'd just bought. Riddle shrank his bag of purchases, which Harry shoved into a pocket, and the old hand-me-downs were dropped into a skip in the alley Riddle directed him into so he could apparate them.

Riddle's apparation, Harry couldn't help but note, was almost silent, as was common among powerful wizards. Harry knew – from Mad-Eye – that Dumbledore's apparation sounded more like a heavy sigh than a car back-firing. Hermione had told Harry, the first time he'd managed to apparate, that he hadn't made a sound at all, but since they'd been in the Great Hall at the time, with everyone else in their year, Harry wasn't completely certain about that.

It took Harry a moment to realise that something was off about where they'd landed. The change in language finally tipped him off and he snagged Riddle's arm, ignoring the glare he got in return. "Where are we?"

"Lyon." When Harry continued to look at him in confusion, Riddle sneered. "Southern France, Potter."

Harry could feel his mouth pop open, but he couldn't seem to control himself enough to make it close again. He managed it after a couple minutes, during which Riddle looked progressively more irritated. "I've never been out of the United Kingdom before," he admitted to explain his reaction.

Something that might have been understanding flashed through Riddle's glamoured eyes, but the man turned away before Harry could tell for sure. "Now you have. Stop gaping like a fish and come along."

Harry smiled and fell in behind Riddle, trying to both look around at everything and not lose the older man. Eventually, they came to a stop outside a bistro. The man inside seemed to know Riddle, for he greeted the Dark Lord by name and set about getting him food without having to ask. It took him a moment to realise that Riddle had someone with him.

"What iz thiz? You haff brought a friend," the man said in accented English.

"I don't know that you'd call us 'friends', per se," Harry muttered.

"Better than... what was it that idiot in your hostel called us? Boyfriends?" Riddle replied, sneering.

Harry grimaced. "Good point."

The Frenchman chuckled at them. "You do look good togezer."

"Hold your tongue!" Riddle snarled, but the man just laughed.

Harry rolled his eyes and looked over the selection of bread behind the man. He had no idea what he might want, honestly. It felt like the first time he sat in the Great Hall and all that food appeared in front of him; he just didn't know what to do with himself.

Today is just one of those days, Harry grouched to himself. If it wasn't for Riddle, he'd still be standing just inside the doors of the clothing shop.

"He'll have what I'm having," Riddle told the Frenchman, not even bothering to glance over at the wide-eyed teen.

"I can pick for myself," Harry muttered, quiet enough that only Riddle heard him.

"Potter, I can feel your indecision."

Harry blinked in surprise, then glanced up at the Dark Lord. "Seriously?"

Riddle glanced over at him, expression bland. "Yes."

"But, I thought Occlumency was supposed to block all that."

Riddle glanced up at the ceiling, silently praying for patience, then looked back at Harry. "Occlumency was only meant to block out external probes. Whatever connection we have, it's internal; it's as much a part of us as our magic. Occlumency helps quiet it, but it can't completely block it."

"Huh. I guess that explains why my scar still burns, even though I don't get visions any more."

Riddle shrugged one shoulder, uncaring. "Most likely."

The Frenchman came back to them with two sandwiches and two bowls of soup. "Iz hot," he warned them, then rang up their order and told them the price. Luckily, he seemed to have expected them to not be carrying francs – Harry suspected that Riddle rarely bothered to exchange his muggle cash when he decided to pop out of the country for a snack – so Harry was able to pay in pounds.

They gathered their lunch and claimed one of the outdoor tables, where they sat and people-watched while they ate.

After a while, Harry commented, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were just a normal guy."

Riddle gave him an unamused look. "As opposed to what?"

"A crazed murderer."

Riddle shot him a nasty smile. "It takes one to know one, Harry."

"I'm not crazy!"

"So you admit that you're a murderer."

Harry scowled. "I'll admit that I can and have killed people. In self-defence."

"Again with the claims of self-defence–"

"It was! They would have happily killed us all."

"So you killed them first." Riddle smirked. "I can't fault your logic."

"I– That wasn't–" Harry waved his arms around a bit, trying to find a rebuke. "Fuck you!"

Riddle chuckled. "You keep offering..."

Harry blanched, then stood and stalked off. He had no idea where he might go – and was quite aware of how far away from any help he was – but he just needed to get away. Away from Riddle and his casual talk of murder, from his 'I know everything' attitude, from his joking about sex.

Just... away.

-0-0-0-

Tom considered the teen's retreating form with one cocked eyebrow. That had been unexpected.

Honestly, in spite of their being permanently connected, Harry Potter was one of the few people in the world who Tom couldn't quite figure out. Ever since the failed possession, Potter had become even more difficult to read and anticipate; the reports he got from Severus and the Death Eater children in the castle painted a Potter who had changed almost completely over the summer, and the boy's knowledge and, more, usage of a Dark spell...

"He iz going to get 'urt," Fletch, the owner of the bistro, said as he stepped up next to Tom.

Tom sighed and shrugged. "He's nothing if not resilient."

"There iz rezilient, and there iz rezilient," Fletch replied.

Tom scowled up at the other man. "Explain."

Fletch smiled at him, used to his regular's lack of knowledge about people. "There are thoze who can bounce back from thingz becauz zey are not bothered by zem, like you. And there are the people who can only bounce back from so much before zey cannot any more."

Tom glanced back toward the spot he'd last seen Harry before the crowds had swallowed him. Harry is more emotional than I, he considered. Things actually bother him, like the idea that he killed eighteen people. He called them 'murderers', as if to dehumanise them. Called it self-defence because then he was in the right.

"I hate good people," he muttered, getting to his feet.

Fletch chortled and picked up the mostly empty bowls as Tom stalked off into the crowd.

-0-0-0-

Harry leant back against an alley wall and sighed. The walk had calmed him some and he was able to admit that leaving behind his only way home had been stupid. Worse, he had just walked where his feet led him, not bothering to focus on where he was going. He was utterly lost.

He glanced up when a shadow darkened the alley. A young man was standing there, smiling. He said something in French.

Harry shook his head. "I don't understand."

The other frowned a bit, then glanced around before stepping closer. He was smiling again and it was a pleasant sort of smile, which should have put Harry at ease, but it didn't. Instead, he was reminded of another time, another alley, another boy smiling a very different smile.

No one will come if you scream.

Someone new was speaking in French. Someone familiar.

Harry looked over at where Riddle was speaking with the young man who'd been approaching Harry. The Dark Lord was smiling at the young man as he motioned him out, but the red-brown eyes were watching Harry with... Was that concern?

The muggle finally left and it was just Harry and Riddle in the alley, staring at each other.

Finally, Riddle broke the silence. "You're an idiot."

Harry smiled, relief washing over him. "So you've said."

Riddle sneered and stalked forward to snatch Harry's arm. Before Harry could blink, they were back in the alley outside the shop Harry had bought his new clothing in and Riddle was stepping back. "Give me your bag."

Harry blinked in surprise. "Huh?"

Riddle scowled. "Your. Bag."

"Oh!" Harry pulled the shrunken bag out of his pocket and held it out so Riddle could resize it. Harry opened his mouth to thank the Dark Lord, but something in Riddle's eyes warned against such, so Harry smiled, inclined his head, and hurried out of the alley.

He entered the hostel just before one and blinked at the group gathered there. "You can call off the search party," he drily informed them.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, then Rosie said, "You don't look half bad, kid."

Harry grinned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Now help me clean up the common on the second floor."

"They have another drunken party for lunch?"

"That's one name for it."

Harry sighed. "Sure. Let me put my bag away."

Harry was halfway up the stairs when Becca called, "You're going to show us the rest of what's in that bag over supper?"

Harry glanced back down at where they were all clustered around, watching him with concern in their eyes. "Yeah, sure thing."

"Good."

-0-

-0-

A/N: Fletch, the bistro owner, has a reason for accepting pounds. Tom will answer that next chapter.
Also, timelines; France hasn't switched over to the Euro at this point. Before someone whines at me.

~Bats ^.^x

Abandon & Reclaim Series:
Abandon the Prequel: Sixth Year
Abandon chapter 01
Reclaim chapter One
Abandoned Chapters:
One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten
Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen || Sixteen || Seventeen || Eighteen || Nineteen || Twenty
INCOMPLETE

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