Mildly Infuriating | Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 17

Tom looked up with wide eyes.

It was an adorable expression Harry had to admit. Harry trailed his eyes to Tom's lips, which were parted in shock. He could see his pink tongue peeking from between his pearly white teeth. Maybe he ought to surprise Tom more often, just wait until he tells Tom he's the Master of Death... or give him the elder wand. Tom's eyes would burst from the sockets. Harry decided to hold off on that plan (for now) because he decided he liked Tom's eyes right where they were. 

Harry's blatant staring and daydreaming was stopped when Tom's shocked face morphed into one of anger.

Tom began on a low voice, "Is this some sort of sick joke? You think you can make up any lie just to make a fool of me? To observe my reaction?" 

"Tommy, you misunderstand--"

"I don't believe I am misunderstanding anything, Evans. I know how you operate, how everything is just one giant joke to you." Tom stepped towards Harry until they were face-to-face. "Well here's your reaction."

Okay, so this was definitely not the reaction that Harry thought he was going to get. Harry expected for Tom to run into his arms and give him the most breathtaking kiss on the lips in gratitude. This was quite the 180 from that. It would seem Harry touched upon a sore spot in Tom's pride. Tom who was perfect in every aspect except heritage was reacting defensively (or aggressively in this case) to any prodding into his background. Harry would need to appeal to Tom, that he had no ill intentions.

"Look Tom, do I look like someone who would pull such a tasteless prank?"

Tom rose one of his perfect eyebrows.

"...right, you're right, this would be completely in character. I could definitely imagine myself doing that," Harry chuckled nervously. 

"Let's see, how can I convince you that I am telling the truth? Oh I know!" Harry began rummaging through his pocket. After pulling out roughly 4 wands, 6 glitter bombs, a chicken drumstick that he was saving for later, 3 cupcakes, and an invisibility cloak, Harry pulled out a vial of what appeared to be a clear potion. 

"This is a truth potion, my own special recipe. I made some tweaks on Veritaserum because there were waaay too many loopholes. Even I can't lie after ingesting some of this."

Harry passed along the potion to Tom, so that he could verify that it was indeed what he described it as. 

"Interesting.." Tom took the vial and swirled the contents. He flicked the vial and even uncapped it to smell the contents. "I suppose ginger root could strengthen the effects of Veritaserum." Tom procured his wand and cast a couple spells. 

"Alright Evans. Drink it."

"Yes sir, at your service."

Harry took the vial and brought it to his lips. He could feel Tom's stinging stare making sure he actually drank the contents. Harry obediently downed the contents, the citrus taste coated his throat on the way down. Thank merlin, Harry decided to make this potion not taste like vomit, like every single other potions master seemed to wish. 

"Alright Tommy dear, ask away."

Harry could see the cogs turning in Tom's head, perhaps it wasn't so good of an idea to give an actual murderer, so much power. 

"Okay Evans, to the best of your knowledge, Am I indeed the heir to Slytherin."

"Yes." The answer came automatically. Should Harry fail to speak the answer, the potion would inflict excruciating pain, nothing Harry wasn't used to. Harry had every intention of lying if it came down to it.

Tom let out a breath, seemingly satisfied that he was related to one of the most powerful wizards of all time. 

"Who are my parents?"

"Merlope Gaunt and Tom Riddle Sr."

"How do you know so much about my family?"

"Because I know everything about you dear."

Tom rolled his eyes, but seemed to have calmed down from his earlier agitation. "Okay, then answer me this. Who are you?"

Harry had to choose his words wisely here. 

"I'm just a lad who is would really appreciate a New Year's kiss." Harry puckered his lips and Tom took two steps back in disgust.

Harry watched the corner of Tom's eye twitch. He truly had a gift for getting under Tom's skin.

"You know that's not what I meant. Who are you?"

Harry put his hands on his hip and tried his best to pout, "I'm hurt Tommy. We've been friends for a semester now and you don't even know who I am? I'm Harry, your best best friend."

"What are those symbols on the back on your neck?"

Now there were pros and cons to this situation that Harry found himself in. Pros, Tom did not correct Harry's usage of the word friend. Cons, there was no convenient way Harry could word an answer that wouldn't reveal that he was the Master of Death, however, Harry was one to make miracles happen.

"Let's see Tom, if I remember correctly, it's what I believe the locals call a circle, a triangle, and a line. I understand if these are unfamiliar concepts--"

A yellow spark flew by Harry's head. It caused in an explosion on impact with the wall behind him. 

"A little warning next time before you cast a Bombarda at my face. I'll have you know it's prime real estate you could be damaging." Harry stared at the wall, or the pile of rubble that used to be a wall, behind him.

"I thought you were supposed to be a proficient dueler Evans. A little Bombarda never hurt anyone." 

"Did we take the same Defense against the Dark Arts Class? Last time I checked, Bombarda is an offensive spell!"

"Quit your whining Evans, it unbecoming."

"Oh yea? What's really unbecoming is how much you want to kiss me Tommy. Quite frankly it's embarassing."

Tom's patience was running thin. "Tell me what the symbols mean Evans."

"I'll tell you if you kiss me."

Harry's potion lived up to its name. He was beginning to feel a sharp stinging near his temples, the longer he withheld the answer, the more painful it would become. He winced at the pain.

Tom retorted, "I will do no such thing. However, you will tell me what I want to know. I can see that you're in pain already." He smiled, "It's only a matter of time before you say."

Harry mustered up his most charming smile, "It's a good thing I like pain."

Harry looked to his wrist, pretending as if he was checking the the time (he doesn't own a watch), "Well, it looks like it's time for me to go." He snapped his fingers and apparated to the safety of his dorm, leaving Riddle dumbstruck.

"It means I'm the master of death stupid." Harry whispered this statement to no one in particular. The pain in his head subsided and he let out a breath of relief. 

He supposed he should start packing, after all, winter break starts tomorrow.