Favours

Once Death and Morpheus returned to The Land of Dreams, Morpheus spoke in a deceptively mild voice, "Brother, I helped you this time, didn't I?"

Death didn't think much about the question and replied offhandedly, "Yes, you did."

At Death's positive response, Morpheus pounced upon the golden opportunity, "So, you now owe me a favour in return, don't you?"

Death's eyes narrowed in contemplation, he really wanted to deny any owing of favours but he knew that if he denied, his twin would go and be a whiny brat and complain about him not keeping his end of the bargain to either Knowledge or Judgement and Death really didn't want to deal with their lectures on his responsibilities, duties etcetera etcetera.

He had heard enough of those lectures in the first few millennia and didn't want a repeat of them.

Therefore, with a long-suffering sigh, Death nodded his head to show his acknowledgement of the favour.

Remembering what Morpheus had asked Love to do when Love had owed him a favour, Death felt dread rising in his heart...He hoped his twin wouldn't be too simplistic as well as cruel when he asked for the favour to be returned.

Thinking about it, Death almost stumbled out of The Land of Dreams and returned to his own realm.

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Tom Riddle couldn't believe his ears when Heir Black came to his defence.

For a single moment, he felt as if the earth had left its axis and was just revolving around Hadrian Black instead of the sun.

No one, absolutely no one had ever come to his rescue.

Oh! It wasn't that he hadn't committed some of the things other children at Wool's had accused him of. No.

It was just that since he didn't talk much in his early years and was always busy with trying to figure out the energy that revolved around him, those children would band together against him and accuse him of things he hadn't even done. The matron and the other caretakers always believed those scrupulous kids even though he had been blameless.

That was when he had realised that people never truly looked past the facade that others showed to them and that was when he had started changing.

However, after the class was over, he saw Malfoy standing outside the Transfiguration classroom and he knew that the other boy was waiting for Heir Black.

Tom Riddle stood silently and watched as Heir Black gave a dimpled smile to Malfoy and both of them left with their heads lowered, whispering and giggling to each other.

He didn't know if it was a trick of the light but he felt that sight unpleasant to his eyes and he squinted at their retreating backs.

He wondered if Heir Black looked at him as a roommate he had to stay with for the duration of their time in Hogwarts or as a friend or simply as a less privileged boy who needed help and rescuing.

Truthfully, they hadn't even had a single meaningful conversation that consisted of more than monosyllables or a sentence here and there.

It was decidedly odd, Heir Black seemed to want to maintain his distance from him, yet, he readily came to his rescue twice. On the other hand, he had been ignored thrice by now.

Once at Ollivanders.

Then at the King's Cross station and even now, as soon as Heir Black had seen Malfoy, he had left him behind readily and immediately - with an eagerness that was frankly insulting and provoking.

Tom had always hated children who tried to curry favour with him or talk to him of their own volition. He had always avoided making any kind of friendship with anyone because he had always believed that when push came to shove, it was every man for himself.

So he should have felt glad that Heir Black was maintaining an appropriate distance from him.

However, the solitude that he generally enjoyed and longed for seemed to be mocking him at this instance.

For the first time in his short life, Tom Marvolo Riddle felt indecision grip him. He couldn't understand what he himself wanted and his heart craved for.

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That night Tom Riddle stayed up till lights out but Heir Black had not once returned to their dorm.

Even though the lights had been switched off, Tom lit a lamp on his desk and waited for the boy to appear but to no avail.

With mounting anxiety, he couldn't sit still any longer and paced back and forth, lost in his own churning thoughts.

With each passing second, Tom could feel his worry for Black rising.

Where the hell was that boy?

He was sure he had seen him at the dinner table - mingling with children on the Ravenclaw table, but then midway through the meal, he had lost sight of him and Heir Black still hadn't returned.

Just as his growing tension and anxiety were about to reach a fever-pitch, Tom felt the temperature in the room drop sharply.

Suddenly, it was as if he wasn't inside a warm, cosy room. No, it felt as if he had been transported far away from any kind of civilization and was left adrift in the midst of snow.

He could see his expelled breath condensing and forming vapours.

He was spooked.

Just as he was about to make a run for the door in his hysteria, everything returned to normal, as if all that bone-deep chilliness he had felt, had been a product of his own over-active imagination.