Lesser Virtues, Greater Goals | Tomarry

Chapter 4: Routine

Harry is hungry again. It's that same evening. Quarter past ten.

He had not gotten out from his room, even after he woke up and was considerably calmer. He had done it to get to the older, even if it meant no dinner. Who cares? He was more than used to that in the Dursleys' residence. Food deprivation? Pff. He can do this.

Turns out he cannot.

Whether he likes it or not, he must open this door and go into the kitchen, or else he will starve. So he walks down the stairs, steps into the main hall and then finds the room he wants.

He opens the refrigerator and picks two slices of toast to make a sandwich. He places them on the table before searching for a tomato, some pieces of ham and cheese and two lettuce leaves.

In his hurry, he had not heard the footsteps that were becoming increasingly louder as a pair of feet also approaches the kitchen.

"You do realize that if you feel like eating, you can eat, right? No need for any sneaking in... or out."

Harry squeals and turns around. Thankfully, he doesn't drop the ingredients he holds on his chest for dear life.

Riddle is smiling. Again. Irritating.

"And you realize that such levels of creepy are criminal, right?" Spits out the boy. "Who the hell does that?"

"Just because you aren't discreet with your walk-" Says the older in a stern undertone, but Harry interrupts him.

"I am perfectly discreet, thank you." He places the ingredients on the table. "I just don't walk like a cat to scare people away."

Riddle doesn't comment on that.

"What do you want here?" Asks the bespectacled Gryffindor.

Tom smiles lazily at the younger. "First of all, it's my house."

"No, it isn't." Scoffs the green eyed.

"Yes, it is. And second, just like you were hungry, I was feeling thirsty."

"For blood?" Inquires Harry sweetly, just to piss the other off.

He sees the corners of the heir's mouth twisting upwards. "Mineral water, actually. Though blood wouldn't hurt."

"Sure." Shrugs the boy. "If you're a vampire."

"Or a cannibal."

"I wouldn't be surprised. You took a girl's soul and trapped her in a diary-"

"Journal." Cuts off the brunet easily. "And I didn't 'trap' her. She did it to herself, quite literally."

Harry ignores the last statement and keeps on glaring at the sixteen year old Slytherin. "Your excuse does not change the fact that she is inside a bloody book."

Riddle doesn't seem bothered by the accusation. He opens a shelf and draws out a glass cup. He fills it with cold water from the fridge.

He doesn't speak until he has taken the glass and exited the kitchen room. "Eat your sandwich, Harry. And put the contents back in the fridge, once you're finished. Goodnight."

And with that, he dissappears from the Gryffindor's view. Harry sees the lights of the hall shut down.

"I would say something right now about where to stick that 'Goodnight' of yours," Mutters the boy angrily, "but whatever, I'm trying to mentain a higher level."

He receives no answer. He is left in the dark with his thoughts in a black cloud.

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