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limonium-anemos · 8 hours

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ATLWETD Snippet

I couldn't decide which part to pick for a snippet for ages so I just picked randomly)

“These are all new ones,” Hagrid said excitedly, pointing at the huge self-made basket filled with grass and hay. “I do what I can for them. Visit them every day and bring them meat, all that thing. But it’s getting colder again and I worry that they might freeze to their death. I thought of getting them blankets but—”

Riddle let out a quiet snort. His face took on a haughty look, and Harry didn’t have to even guess to know what he was thinking. That Hagrid was a pathetic half-breed incapable of doing magic, something that was supposed to be inherent to anyone worthy of life.

Anger stirred in his chest, and he turned away from Riddle, focusing on the cubs.

He couldn’t say he felt much affection towards them. They were small, ugly, and they were writhing in their basket restlessly, trying to push closer to one another.

Hagrid was right, they were cold. And it was a problem Harry could easily fix.

“How did you find them?” he asked, taking out his wand and transforming the basket into something resembling a dog house he’d seen back at the Privet Drive, in the yards of some of the Dursleys’ neighbours. He didn’t know if it would be suitable for little werewolves, but it was better than nothing. Now he had to figure out how to use a warming charm that would stick — he had no desire to venture this deep into the Forbidden Forest again.

Hagrid began to explain something, but Harry only half-listened. He murmured a spell, waited, and then touched one of the cubs carefully, checking if it was getting warmer.

The moment his fingers pressed against the soft coat, the second cub raised its head and tried to bite him. Harry barely managed to snatch his hand away. His still-broken finger collided with his wand by accident, flaring with unpleasant warmth. He cursed, more out of annoyance at his own carelessness than pain, when Riddle suddenly appeared next to him and grabbed him by his collar, dragging him to his feet harshly.

“What kind of an idiot are you?” he hissed. He clenched Harry’s wrist, examining his hand with burning intensity. “Touching this filth! Do you want to be infected?”

“Infected?” Harry repeated in confusion. Belatedly, he realised that Riddle was probably right. The cubs looked like simple wolves, there was nothing human-like in their shape, so the fact that their bite could be dangerous didn’t occur to him.

“They can’t infect yeh!” Hagrid protested. “They come from humans mating in wolf forms. Their bite ain’t dangerous, they’re like real wolves, just very smart.”

“You don’t know that,” Riddle replied stonily. His voice was cold as ice, and he continued to inspect Harry’s hand, twisting and turning it like it was his own limb. Harry tried to pull away, annoyed, but predictably, Riddle didn’t let him.

“What makes you think they can infect humans?” he asked just to say something. Riddle’s insistence on barging into his personal space and manhandling him was starting to grate on his nerves, although in a strange, awkward way he didn’t know how to deal with.

“No one has determined it for certain. It’s extremely rare for two abominations to reproduce under the full moon and then to leave their bastards behind. How Hagrid continues to find them defies all rules of logic and common sense.”

“Sounds like something you might want to research,” Harry muttered. Riddle sent him a deeply sceptical look, as if he was questioning his sanity. “What? Isn’t it something you’re supposed to be interested in? Werewolves are a part of our society and the way they are treated is disgusting. Anyone who offers them better treatment can get them as allies in—”

No. What was he saying? Or rather, to whom was he saying it?

Harry swallowed the rest of his words, but it was too late, the biggest part of them was out. Riddle’s stare turned calculating, an intrigued gleam lighting it from inside. His hold loosened, and Harry finally managed to get himself free.

He really was an idiot. Sure, he didn’t say anything extraordinary, and Riddle would have arrived at this basic conclusion on his own — Voldemort had. But still… this was something he could say to a friend, a person he trusted, not to Riddle. Never to him. They weren’t a team, and helping him to find more allies was the last thing Harry wanted.

Besides, werewolves deserved better than to be used by someone who didn’t give a damn about them and then discarded — or worse, wiped out of existence. Harry had no idea what Voldemort had been planning to do with them once he got everything he wanted.

Frowning, he knelt next to the cubs and raised his wand again. He had to get that warming charm right.

“That’s what I’m saying!” Hagrid exclaimed. His voice rang with passion. “Werewolves are mistreated. They can be good friends, right, Harry? And the cubs are innocent, they’d never hurt no one.”

Riddle stifled a sigh. He continued to stand next to Harry, monitoring his struggle with the spell. Did he want to make certain that Harry wasn’t going to push his fingers into the werewolves’ mouths? Probably this or something as ridiculous.

Okay, the warming charm. Harry learned how to modify simple spells in one of the books he’d been absorbing lately, and though the theory was surprisingly clear, he had no idea how to voice his intent clearly enough for his magic to listen. A spell that would keep this little shelter warm throughout the winter and early spring without having to be reapplied, which would disappear when the weather got naturally warmer, and which would gain power again when the late autumn came. How on earth could he convey all of this in one simple charm? And how could he know if it worked?

“Next time, we can go visit the older cubs,” Hagrid was saying. His words were getting increasingly animated. “And the fire crabs, I know where they’re nesting. And I swear I saw the Occamy one day—”

Harry was glad he had his back turned to Hagrid — his face probably reflected the horror he felt at the thought of coming in here again and again in search of the dangerous creatures he was wary of. He loved and missed Hagrid, but there had to be limits to where they went and what they did.

On the other hand… Hagrid was lonely. Would it be so bad to accompany him from time to time?

Riddle’s disgusted snort broke him out of his thoughts. Harry squinted at him from the corner of his eye — surely Riddle couldn’t know what he was thinking? — but it was too late. Riddle was already walking away from him, holding the edge of his robe like he was concerned about getting it dirty.

“I can see that your love for dangerous creatures hasn’t abated since your expulsion, Hagrid,” he said pleasantly. Every warm syllable sounded so artificial that Harry’s jaw ached from how tightly he clenched it. “Tell me, are you still interacting with that Acromantula that killed Myrtle?”

Harry froze just as Hagrid choked, his excited words dying on his tongue.

“Aragog… Aragog killed no one,” he muttered. It was difficult to understand him, his voice was thick with emotion. “He ain’t guilty.”

“I see.”

That was all Riddle said, but the way he did it left Hagrid with no choice but to reply.

“He didn’t do it!” he insisted, more loudly this time. “He would’ve told me!”

“As a child, have you ever done something bad? Something that you didn’t want your family to know?”

“Riddle,” Harry snapped. He didn’t want to get into it — he just wanted to be done with this stupid spell and go, but he wasn’t going to let Hagrid be brainwashed into believing he killed Myrtle. The audacity of even trying to do it, and to do it here, where Harry could hear them… did Riddle really think he would let this stand?

“I— yeah,” Hagrid threw a lost look at Harry before focusing on Riddle again. “Lots of things.”

“And have you ever lied to cover it up?”

“Riddle,” Harry repeated. He waved his wand at the cubs, directing all his frustration into his spell, but while it clearly worked, it didn’t feel any different from the usual warming charms he’d been using. Maybe it was a little stronger, but it would never hold through the winter, never mind self-regulating its activation and disappearance.

“Sometimes,” Hagrid muttered.

“Then what makes you think Aragog behaved any differently? He killed the girl and he was scared of your reaction.”

“No!”

Despite the protest, an echo of uncertainty touched this one word, and just like that, Harry knew this battle was lost. Hagrid was gullible enough to fall for Riddle’s manipulation, and Riddle was in the mood to put an effort into it.

“Think about it,” he said softly. It was difficult to say whether his voice was naturally this compelling or if he was using compulsions deliberately — whatever it was, for a moment, Harry found himself almost lulled by it. “You kept letting it out for some exercise. From around that point, someone started petrifying the students. Then, the attacks escalated, and the girl was found dead. Do Acromantulas have venom?”

“Yeah… in the fangs.”

“In the fangs,” Riddle agreed. “Exactly so. And the venom gets stronger with age. At first, Aragog was too little to kill someone. But you kept caring for him, so he kept growing, and one day, his venom became strong enough to cause Myrtle’s death.”

Did Riddle need to be punched to shut up? Because this was something Harry was more than willing to do. His anger was bubbling on the surface already — one more word, and it would spill over.

“Acromantulas have a natural appetite for human flesh, Hagrid,” Riddle continued silkily, using dejected silence to fill it with more of his bullshit. “Surely you know that. You have always been the best when it came to studying magical creatures. There is no need to deny it now that Aragog is out of danger — I would never tell where you are hiding it.”

Outrage broke through. Harry lurched to his feet, throwing the last warming charm at the cubs and marching towards Riddle and Hagrid, almost shaking with fury. He had no idea what he was going to say, but letting Riddle fill Hagrid’s head with rubbish, make him feel guilty for something he didn’t do—

Apparently, Harry’s approach was also a part of Riddle’s plan because when he reached them, Riddle wrapped a possessive hand around the back of his neck, pulling him close as if he always intended to do so and effectively rendering him speechless.

“I would never tell where you are hiding Aragog,” he repeated to Hagrid, “but only if you convince me that you’ve learned your lesson. Your unique talents allow you to interact with all these creatures unharmed, but as you can see, the same cannot be said about other students. Your actions have already led to the death of one of them — would you really like to repeat this experience? With Harry, of all people?”

“No,” Hagrid breathed out. His eyes were brimming with tears, and this was enough to break Harry from under whatever spell Riddle had put on him — again.

Using his position, he pressed his wand to Riddle’s wrist and burned it with a stinging jinx. Riddle must have failed to see it coming because he jerked away abruptly, releasing Harry from his hold and sending him an incredulous look.

Very soon, his astonishment gave way to malice. Riddle narrowed his eyes, and Harry’s heart jerked from the cold, calculating stare he received. He glared back, crossing his arms and stepping away at the safer distance.

“Don’t listen to him, Hagrid,” he said. “It’s not—”

“What?” Riddle asked coolly. He rubbed his wrist, not taking his eyes off Harry, maintaining the strangest balance between an innocent expression and a hard, dark look. “Do you believe that all these pets are harmless? Were you not almost bitten by a cub of a werewolf five minutes ago without knowing if their bite was infectious? Are you saying you are ready to get acquainted with them all?”

The urgent need to protect Hagrid and to do something to wipe this expression of distress and heartbreak off his face nearly made Harry blurt out an agreement, but another part, probably a saner one, prevailed for a change.

Even as an adult, Hagrid could never tell the difference between safe and dangerous creatures. Aragog might have been innocent of Myrtle’s murder, but he did eat humans, and he probably would have started doing it at Hogwarts sooner or later if he hadn’t been forced to flee.

Apart from putting the blame for Myrtle’s death on Hagrid, Riddle was right. And Harry had no idea how to convince Hagrid he hadn’t killed anyone without nullifying the sobering impact of this idea.

He could really do without all these dilemmas Riddle had been creating for him recently.

#and the living will envy the dead #severus_divides_into_h #hp #tomarry #tomarry fic rec

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