Lesser Virtues, Greater Goals | Tomarry

Chapter 2: Different prisons

Harry opens his eyelids slowly.

Dizziness comes over, making him groan. He touches his forehead, moving his palm in circles. Perhaps this will make the pain go away. It doesn't. He rubs his eyes, trying to wake up. He really wants to go back to sleep. The bed is really comfortable and soft... Wait. What bed? Last thing he remembers is that he was down the Hogwart's sewers system.

He pushes his feet to move and once he gets off the mattress and his skin senses the wooden floor underneath, he searches for... actually, he doesn't know what to search for. 

Alright, focus. First things first. Where are his glasses? Oh. There's a small wooden desk, painted gray, in front of the bed and near the bathroom entrance. He sees his glasses there, neatly folded, without any sign of breaking. He puts them on. Surprisingly, he can see much more clearly than before. Weird. Oh well. He will search for these answers later.

Now where are his trainers - Ah ha. Under the bed. So he puts them on as well. What else...

Right. His wand. He takes a look around the extremely cozy room with the white curtains and the grand bed with the gray covers and the small blue bathroom that seems so inviting... He sighs. 'Nowhere to be seen.'

He sits on one of the chairs that come with the desk, apparently, trying to gather his thoughts. His head is killing him. The last thing he remembers is being down the Chamber. He never saw the basilisk. He found Ginny. He spoke with Riddle - 'Oh my God... Riddle is alive. We made an agreement of some sorts. Did it involve being kidnapped and brought into an unknown location? Hell no!'

He rushes to the door. He pulls the handle with all his power... and it miraculously opens. That he didn't expect. So he runs off to a long corridor with many other doors, painted brown. In which one of them is the sneaky bastard hiding?

"Walk all the way down. Do not take any turn. The kitchen is downstairs."

'How is his voice projected up here?' Wonders Harry, with a bit of irritation for the other seemed to enjoy his confusion.

"Magic."

Alright, now he is just annoyed. "Can you stop doing that? I'm coming!" 'Fuck off, you kidnapping creep!"

He walks down the corridor and at the end of it, he sees a staircase made of wood. He makes one step. The wood creaks a little. It makes him shudder. He breaths out. The sooner he gets to the kitchen, the sooner he will have his answers. He must find a way to escape and quickly. It's a really pretty house, that he must admit.

He finds himself into the kitchen, just as the older had instructed. He sees Riddle, who is  already seated. His eyes skim through articles on a newspaper, in a language that is certainly not English. What the fuck?

"Good morning." Says the Slytherin pleasantly.

Harry thinks he can feel his gut twisting around frome the uneasiness. "Errr, what is all this?" He asks, pointing at the variety of bread, jams and charchuterie products on the table. His voice trembles a little, but he pretends it didn't happen.

"This? What else could it be but breakfast? Sit down, you must be famished."

"I'm not eating." Declares the younger and prays his stomach doesn't betray him. He hadn't eaten for twelve hours.

"I assure you, the food is not poisoned. Poisoning would be impractical in your case." Says Riddle, not in an irritated manner, not at all. "You can choose whatever you wish."

Harry sits on the chair, internally grateful for his ankles started to ache. His eyes travel from the bread and the cortons of milk and the tea bags to the jams and cereal and cakes. "Why are you giving me food?"