The Snake and the Emerald Apple

Lost

Once outside, it was time for Harry to finally take off his heavy backpack. The Dursleys had found an empty picnic table, and it was up to Harry to serve lunch. Harry had kept a sandwich for himself, along with a bottle of mineral water. His family ate chicken legs, sandwiches, chocolate cake and drank soft drinks. Harry hoped that all the food was gone, then he would have a light backpack for the way back.

On his way back to the car, Uncle Vernon suddenly stopped walking. His aunt looked up in surprise, she had not expected the interruption. Vernon stopped right in front of Harry and glared at him.

"Don't think I've forgotten your behavior in the cave," Vernon snapped at him.

Harry had quietly hoped his uncle had indeed forgotten but realized it had been wishful thinking.

Uncle Vernon pushed Harry towards the walkway, which continued into the woods. "You're going this way. You can walk back to the Bed and Breakfast yourself. Maybe that will make you a bit more humble."

Harry didn't bother going against his sentence. He knew his uncle wouldn't listen to him anyway. He walked away quickly, with the backpack on his back. He did not stop walking until his family was out of sight and took the Height of Abraham brochure from the bag. The walking routes were clearly marked in this folder. Harry eventually chose to follow the red route. This slowly descended into the valley and ended in Little Hangleton. Harry could easily find his way back from there.

He saw that there was also a sandwich and two bottles of water in the bag. He also found a flashlight and a crumpled five-pound note. Harry was happy with this discovery, he would not starve or be hopelessly lost in the process. With renewed courage, he adjusted his current route and followed the red path down.

Several hours later, he had to admit that although the red route was easy, it was further away from Matlock Bath and Harry would not return to the B&B until late at night. He arrived in Little Hangleton early in the evening, around seven o'clock. He sat down on a wooden bench and started his sandwich.

Meanwhile, he looked around and realized he couldn't see the cafe yet. He did see an imposing country house, complete with its own driveway, garden shed, and an enormous green lawn. The house would have looked nice back in its glory days, Harry realized. The ivy on the walls had beautiful fall colors and gave the house a cozy feel. The walls were white but had cracks in the stucco. He saw a lonely light burning on the second floor, flickering like a candle in the wind. The rest of the house seemed uninhabited and, moreover, looked dilapidated. Heavy chains with large locks hung on the doors to keep out unwanted visitors.

Harry was now looking at the house with interest. Would anyone still live there? And were the old occupants of the house related to the Tom Riddle from the diary?

Harry closed his eyes and pictured the handsome dark-haired boy from the diary. He had lighter skin than Harry, an aristocratic nose, and graceful hands. Somehow Harry could still picture his hands, they were so graceful but deadly, like a beautiful little snake with the most deadly poison. But the most striking thing about Tom Riddle's appearance was his eyes. He had the darkest blue eyes Harry had ever seen. They had shined maliciously, but Harry had seen other emotions as well. Fear, passion, drive, and a certain possessive glow when he could almost touch Harry. Those eyes were still the main event of Harry's dreams, and Harry had to admit that the nature of those dreams was changing.

When he was twelve and had just fought with the Basilisk, the dreams had been violent in nature. They were nightmares, with Riddle as the evil protagonist, who kept sucking out the life of people he loved with his diary. Harry had seen Hermione lying on the floor, but also Ron staring into nowhere with lifeless eyes as Riddle emerged from the diary. Harry had regularly lost his fight to Riddle and Riddle had spoken to him with a sneer, as if he were nothing. Nothing more than a Flubberwurm being prepared for a magic potion in a first year's class, only to be banished by Professor Snape.