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Chapter Text

The corridors of Hogwarts seemed to be cold and dark, sucking any life that came through it into its walls to erase the bloodshed that had occurred not even a month prior. There were no children laughing, no whispers between friends, no friendly rivalries being fought. Nothing. It was deserted, as empty as the eyes of the fallen.

There were but two lone souls who dared to trek through the halls- the new headmistress and the saviour.

The saviour. Wasn’t that a load of rubbish. He tried to save the world. He tried to save Professor Lupin, he tried to save Tonks. How was he any different from that monster when he was hiding from the action?! When he watched the life drain from Snape’s eyes, when he watched the Weasleys, his family, his first friend, grieve for their son? How did him killing another person solve anything?!

The two made their own ways through the castle, trying to find some kind of peace in the chaos that surrounded them.
Harry was wandering, watching his feet step and the windows pass, until he came upon the stone gargoyle. Well- what was left of it. Half of it had been blown off, the remainder held a single sheet of parchment. He’d never heard of the gargoyle being a hiding place, even with all of Hermione's info-dumps from Hogwarts: A History. He reached forward and tried to slip the paper out, but it held firm. He tugged a bit, but that only caused the parchment to tear. He stepped closer and looked to see if there was any writing on it.

A fierce warrior

A mighty protector

All he needs to do

Is look up and over

Harry read it twice more, then looked up. He didn’t see anything, so he began to search. He looked to his right. Nothing. He looked to his left. Nothing. Then he looked at the ceiling, seeing a pattern in the stone there. It trailed on, towards where Harry knew the stairs began, and seemed to be moving. Suddenly, the line that was there previously began to shift, forming letters.

“Say… Save… Save Us…?” he murmured. What did that mean? The words changed again. “Go… Go Up. But I can’t! I don’t know the password!” Just then, the wall blocking the stairs began to shift out of the way, revealing the path to the headmaster’s office. “Well that’s convenient.”

He crept up the stairs, aware of how precarious the support was even with the repairs that had begun. He made sure he had his satchel and that his wand was in his hand as he came up to the large door. He tried the handle- locked- then whispered the spell to unlock it. The door slowly opened, revealing a barren office. No knick-knacks, no whatcha-ma-call its, no nothing. It felt wrong in that there was supposed to be something there. Besides the great desk sat in the middle, there weren’t even chairs by the fireplace!

Harry stalked towards the desk, feeling an intrinsic need to get closer to it. That’s slightly disturbing, maybe I have another soul in me, he thought grimly. He opened drawers until he came upon a locked one. Another unlocking spell and Harry slid it open, There was the elder wand, and a time turner. Harry had tried to discard the elder wand, even attempting to set it aflame. Nothing had worked, so he’d left it in the forbidden forest, hoping something in there could destroy it.

Now, with it sitting here, Harry realised he couldn’t escape it. He sighed, resigned to his fate, and reached for them. When he touched the time turner, he felt a tingling sensation go up his arm and into his chest. When he picked up the wand, he felt a shiver wrack through his body and back. He placed the wand in his satchel and looked at the time turner. It was beautiful, carvings of hourglasses on the bases, and what looked to be runes all over the casing.

He’d been passing it into his other hand when there was a loud Bang! that caused him to jump. The time turner fell from his grip, and with seeker-fast reflexes, he caught it again. By doing so, though, he had begun to turn the knob, and now it seemed to be flying through rotations.
Harry began to panic before everything went dark.

Visions of two being arguing- over what he couldn’t tell.

One being seemed to be getting yelled at. It was cowering away. It looked like a small child.

There was a warm brush of fingers through his hair. It reminded him of Hermione.

Lights were flashing everywhere, shadows dancing around each other.

He was spinning. He was spinning and he couldn’t stop.

No, he was falling.

Harry was abruptly awoken from whatever that was by a renervate. The first thing he saw was the point of a wand not even two inches away from his face. The next thing he saw was a man with an ashen pallor and Harry’s satchel in his other hand. He was suddenly aware that he was lying on the floor, unarmed, and at a complete disadvantage. He recognized the man above him, though he couldn’t place from where.

“Who are you, and how do you get through the wards,” the man demanded. He seemed to be shaking- whether from rage or fear, Harry could not tell.

“Where am I?” He tried to sound as non threatening as possible, aware that with only a quick flick of the man’s wrist Harry’s eyes could be plucked from his skull, or his throat slashed, or any number of deadly but not fatal things.

“You… you don’t know where you are?” The man seemed to deflate a bit at that- probably anger then- and lowered his wand slowly. “You are at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, son.”

Harry’s eyes widened, “Who are you??” If his theory was correct then that could only mean-

“Armando Dippet, Headmaster of this school. Who or what are you?”

He held back a snort at the ‘what’, instead replying, “Name’s harry. Any chance I could get up?”

The headmaster levelled a glare at him, seeming to contemplate it. He stood up and offered Harry a hand. He smiled gratefully at the man and sat in the proffered chair.

“Now, are you going to answer my other question? How did you get through the wards?”

Harry weighed the pros and cons of telling him the truth- on the one hand, it would be nice to have an ally in this whole thing, but on the other, the man could think him a liar and call the aurors. He decided that if worse comes to worse, he could show the man his memories for proof- assuming he owns a pensieve.

“Could I inquire about the date before I answer?”

“It is September first, 1943. The start of term begins today, the students are on the express as we speak.”

“Well then, to put it simply, I’ve gone back in time. About fifty-five years.”

The headmaster looked at him speculatively, “that’s incredibly hard to believe.”

“Well-” Harry gripped the time-turner that somehow got around his neck, “this thing took me back. I don’t know how or why, I thought it could only go back like twenty-four hours, but it happened. I can’t explain that part, but when I turned this,” he gestured at the glass, “I was in the future headmaster’s office. Standing right about here actually.”

“I’ll be honest, I don’t want to believe you. Then again, I cannot try to understand Magic herself, only embrace her and what she likes to throw at me,” he got a slight smile at that, “This is hardly the strangest thing that’s happened in the last year or so. It’s very strange, concerning in its own right, but not the strangest. What do you plan to do now that you are here?”

Harry paused at that. He was glad the man was taking him seriously, even consoling him in a way, but he had no idea what to do. He was dropped into another timeline, where he doesn’t know anybody, doesn’t have anything, and cannot cause a paradox. He didn’t have any of his friends, he didn’t have his old professors, he had nothing here. He... he really didn't have anything. Suddenly it felt as if there was a thousand textbooks stacked upon his chest, he couldn’t breathe couldn’t breathe couldn’tbreathecouldn’tbreathe-

His eyes snapped open when there was a loud clap. It seemed the headmaster had slapped him across the face, well that’s a way to stop a spiral.
“Are you quite alright there lad?”

“Sorry, yes, thank you. I just got caught up in my thoughts.” How embarrassing, not even five minutes into him being here and he almost has a panic attack!

Harry looked up to the man’s eyes and saw him raising a brow. What was it he’d asked again-?

“Oh! Yes- er, no. I have no plans, nor do I know what I'm going to do.” Honestly, he felt like he’d been thrown into the deep end of a large pool, except the pool was the ocean and there were no sides to climb onto. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I- I guess I could leave? You don’t know me, and I’m literally nobody right now.”

The man hummed, contemplating. “How about just attending this school? I can have you take a placement test in a moment, and you can be sorted with the first years, as a transfer student.”

Harry thought this over. It was really the best case scenario- the person who’s aware of his dilemma runs the place he knows better than any of his friends, and just offered him a place there. Really, it seemed too perfect. “I really appreciate the offer. Would there be any… requirements?” What’s the catch? Nothing ever works out this well for me.

The man smirked a bit, “I daresay you might join the snakes with that attitude.” Harry was about to object- Him? A snake?? - but he continued, “The only thing I would need you to do is answer a few questions for me. They pertain to the future, though nothing too specific about it. If you cannot answer my questions- I’m aware Time is a force none would dare try to mess with- then I will instead have you do a sort of research project.”

Once again, it all seemed too good to be true. Oh well, what was that saying? Don’t look a gift thestral in the mouth? “Deal.”

Soon after he’d uttered the word, his new headmaster waved his hand, summoning some of the anti-cheat quills Harry’d used taking finals along with some aged ‘round the edge parchment. The headmaster then took out his wand, returning Harry’s own to his person, and waved it a few times in varying patterns. Words began to print themselves, from multiple choice questions to free-responses. The headmaster handed the parchment to Harry, telling him he had three hours to complete the placement-test, then procured an hourglass charmed for the allotted time and flipped it, simply stating “begin.” 

Three hours later, with a cramped hand and a wet sponge for a brain, saw Harry handing over the completed test, which had been over every subject Hogwarts offered its students. Harry had tried his best on the subjects he hadn’t taken, but he wasn’t confident. The headmaster- Call me professor Dippet, lad - took the parchment just as the last grain of sand fell, looking it over. He looked back at Harry a few times, a bemused look upon his face. “Is there something wrong, sir?”

Professor Dippet looked a bit sheepish at the question, simply handing back the parchment. Harry raised his eyebrow, but scanned it. Oh.

On each page was a score, one page per subject. 

Defense against the Dark arts: 37/37, kudos for the Patronus! 7th year.

Transfiguration: 42/45, extra point for animagi process- 43/45. 7th year.

Potions: 36/48, interesting deviations to instructions, plus one- 37/48. 6th year.

Charms: 50/50, excellent privacy charm knowledge. 7th year. 

Herbology: 26/31. 6th year. 

History of Magic: 29/40, extensive knowledge on the Goblin revolts. 6th year.

Astronomy: 31/31, beautiful drawings. 7th year.

Care of Magical Creatures: 26/23, wonderful description of thestrals. 7th year.

Muggle Studies: 27/34, ridiculous ideas, what is a ‘computer’? 4th year. 

Divination: 12/23, one cannot just predict one’s death. 3rd year.

Arithmancy: 34/46, regular muggle-schooling level. 5th year. 

Study of Ancient Runes: 12/32, intricate knowledge of privacy and protection wards (6th year topic). 4th year. 

Advanced Arithmancy: tester chose not to fill out this sheet.

Alchemy: 3/14, knowledge of sorcerer’s stone. N/A.

Apparition: 6/6, great side-along description. No need to take class.

Flying: 2/2. Can fly, good job.

Tester has not taken extra-curriculars or clubs. 

Well, that’s an interesting bit of magic. It seemed the charm not only graded his work, but could comment and be interpretive. Hell, it could compliment his knowledge! And insult it, but whatever. Hermione would be fascinated- Merlin he was going to miss her and Ron. 

“So what does this mean for me? I can’t be in all these grades at once,” he was not taking third year divination again- no matter how easy it may have been to pass. 

“Now, we find a good medium of the classes you will take. How old are you, lad?” the headmaster looked at him expectantly.

“Seventeen as of July thirty-first, sir.”

“Hmm, so you’d be in seventh year. Did you attend Hogwarts in the future? Or rather, will you,” he snickered to himself. Harry didn’t personally find the humour in his situation, but to each their own. 

“I did attend- or will- and couldn’t attend for my seventh year. I’d rather not get into it,” he replied at the curious look professor Dippet gave him. 

“Very well, I believe we should put you in seventh year, that way you will be with others your age. You will be taking any subjects that you would like to continue, and any free periods you can use for this research project I will give you.” He then gave Harry another parchment with a list of all of the classes and boxes before each line. “Check any that you are going to take. You do not need to take the classes which you have tested into 7th year for, though you may want to partake in those classes because we undoubtedly have different teachers with different methods of teaching. I would suggest not filling your entire schedule, you have been away from school for a year if I’m understanding your situation correctly. The minimum number of classes is four, though you would be required to have an outside, self-study project or class of interest. Lucky for you I have that already for you!”

Harry nodded and took the parchment and quill, checking boxes as he read.

• Defence against the Dark Arts
• Transfiguration
• Potions
• Charms
• Herbology
• History of Magic
• Astronomy
• Care of Magical Creatures
• Muggle Studies
• Divination
• Arithmancy
• Study of Ancient Runes
• Advanced Arithmancy 
• Alchemy
• Apparition
• Flying

He checked DADA immediately, he’d always loved that class and any extra knowledge was good to know for someone like him. Potions, because he may as well prove himself in that class. History of Magic and Astronomy would be good classes to take it easy in, and Care would always be a class close to his heart. 

With that, Harry signed his name at the bottom of the parchment and with a startled yelp, snatched his hand away. The thing had gone up into flames the second he’d finished his last ‘r’! He looked up at the headmaster, who was outright laughing now, with a bemused expression. 

The headmaster calmed down a bit and explained how the magic of Hogwarts recognized that as an important file of a student and so, being outside of the file-room, it made a copy, stored the copy, and burnt the original so there was no way to obtain whatever was on it.

“Well, we ought to get down to the Great Hall, the Hogwarts Express will be arriving momentarily. You will be waiting in the side-corridor along with the first-years and will get sorted first as a priority.”

They stood and walked to the Great Hall, professor Dippet going to the staff table, and Harry going to the side-corridor after having it pointed out to him. 

About fifteen minutes went by, when a house-elf popped into existence, left a bag on the ground in front of him, and popped away. Harry took the bag after a moment’s hesitation, then looked inside. It had an Undetectable Extension Charm on it, and it was filled with supplies. At the very top were three plain, black robes with the Hogwarts Crest embroidered onto the breasts. He found himself with a huge grin plastered onto his face and hurried to slip one of the robes over his clothes. 

He had just begun to look through the bag when he heard footsteps echoing outside of the doorway into the side-corridor. He heard some voices, girls gossiping, boys poking fun at one another, kids playing pranks, and exasperated sighs from all around. It made him think of his past years, how wonderful and freeing it felt to walk into the castle every September first since he turned eleven.  His giant grin dimmed to a melancholic slant of his lips as the fond memories played through his mind as he waited for the first years.

Soon excited whispers and gasps of astonishment sounded off the walls. With a deep breath, Harry turned and faced where they would be entering and braced himself. As they shuffled into existence, the teacher guiding them only gifted him with half a glance before nodding her head and ushering him to the front of the line. He complied, reluctantly, and followed her as they made their way to the Great Hall to be sorted.

Chapter Text

Walking into the Great Hall was a dizzying experience. The last time he’d been in there had been when he realised just who all had died because of him. He looked to the professors’ table, seeing who all he could recognize. 

Dumbledore (obviously), Dippet, and Slughorn. He couldn’t recall having seen anyone else. 

He was shaken from his musing when he heard his name called. 

“Hadrian Evans?” The name, Hadrian Evans, was what he’d decided to go with for the time being. It fit, he could still go by Harry and he was honouring his mother’s name. Dippet hadn’t even asked him about it, just writing it down on a piece of parchment, which he now realised was the list of names of the first years. 

He took in a fortifying breath, prayed to whatever gods were out there that this would go smoothly, and walked up to the stool. 

He was noticeably bigger this time ‘round, thankfully. When the hat was placed upon his head, it didn’t nearly reach his chin. In fact, it barely covered his eyes, and if that was reassuring of his recovery from his years of malnourishment. 

Ah, Hadrian Evans? Is that what you’re going by these days? Came a deep voice from the depths of his mind. 

How did the hat know who he was? He couldn’t imagine the headmaster revealing anything to anyone, much less the sorting hat. 

I am all-knowing, the bounds of time nor death do not pertain to beings such as I. Now then, Where to put you. You were a Gryffindor in your previous life, I can’t imagine why though. You have a brashness common to Gryffindors, but your cunning is much more prevalent. Your aptitude to learning is quite high, you achieved a corporeal Patronus by the end of third year? Very impressive.

Thank you, thought Harry, I think this time around Gryffindor won’t serve me this time around, I need to lie low and not draw attention to myself. Plus, I need to be able to work on my project without interference. I’m sure you are aware of my ‘project’?

The headmaster, after they’d established what Harry’s classes would be, had told him of what he wanted Harry to research. Apparently , there had been many attacks on muggleborns the year previous, one even resulting in a death.  Dippet hadn’t gone into too much detail, explaining that he’d allow Harry to get settled and used to his schedule before really hashing out what he would expect from his research. Harry, of course, knew all about these attacks, but he couldn’t outright tell the headmaster he knew of the basilisk now back in hibernation below the school. The headmaster would have an aneurysm!

Yes, I see. Slytherin would be a good choice, you would fit in with your ability to manipulate, although because of your chosen name, I fear you will have more trouble than help. Ravenclaw would be great for this project of yours, and you can lay rather low for the time being. I would say Hufflepuff, but anyone who has been through a war doesn’t value fair-play as they once might’ve. So, Ravenclaw? The hat seemed to be waiting for a response, which was rather considerate considering Ron and Malfoy’s sortings, which had been almost immediate. 

I believe you know what would be best for me. He had no preference to what house he ended up in, but he’d rather avoid the snake den in order to prolong the inevitable meeting with one Tom Riddle. 

“RAVENCLAW!” the hat shouted, and the blue and bronze table broke out into cheers, the other houses politely clapping. Harry slipped the hat off and handed it back to the professor. Stepping down from the stool, he scanned his new housemates. They looked nice enough, nobody was actively sneering at him, so he shouldn’t have to worry too much about blood-purity nonsense. 

As he walked down the aisle to the end of the table nearest the doors, where the oldest were sitting, someone raised a hand. Harry slowed, stopping just before the boy. He had chestnut-brown hair, and a gleeful glint in his eye. He was giving Harry a small smile, really just his lips quirked up on one side, and waved him over to sit between himself and another student. Harry hesitated for only a second before thinking, ‘Fuck it’ . 

Just as the bloke was about to introduce himself, and as the sorting of the first years began, the doors to the Great Hall were pushed open slightly, just enough to let a single person through. 

Holy shit. 

He would recognize those deep brown curls, that angular face, and that swaggering stalk. It was Tom. Bloody. Riddle. 

Tom was late. Late. Tom was never late. Of course he’d lost track of time. Of-fucking-course. At least he wasn’t too far behind, he was able to slip into the Hall without notice as the first years were sorted. He only saw two new faces so far, but there was a solid group. Perhaps they’d get more than their measly five this year?

As Tom settled in his seat, he noticed there was a quiet murmuring going on all throughout his table. What was so interesting that his snakes were breaking from their usual stoicism during the Welcoming Feast?

He kicked Lestrange’s shin, who was sitting opposite from him. The man in question sent Tom an inquisitive look, raising one brow slightly. Tom, instead of answering, took a meaningful glance up and down the table, silently asking what had everyone so excited. Lestrange only smirked, giving his own meaningful glance, only this time to the end of the Ravenclaws’ table. 

Tom looked over, and just as he scanned the seventh years, cerulean blue met emerald green. Tom felt the breath get knocked from his lungs, a shiver overtaking his body. He couldn’t look away. Those eyes , they were enchanting, like a potion- no, poison, bottled and captured in the wide eyes of the boy. 

Tom forced himself to tear his own eyes from the other’s, scanning the rest of his face and what he could see of the rest of him. 

The first thing that came to mind was honey , for the boy had bronzed, flawless skin. His face was smoother than his own, but not in the way youth softens features. The delicate nature of his nose and lips caused Tom to look further down, eyeing his neck and collarbones. He felt something stir within himself.

The boy seemed to shake himself from the staring they’d been doing, and turned to Uttlebe next to him. Damn him , he thought. He wanted to feel the intensity of those eyes once more. 

Tom cleared his throat, signalling for attention from his Knights. The sorting had finished and the Feast had appeared.

Yes, his Knights were coming along nicely. After he’d revealed his lineage, Tom had no more trouble with his housemates, despite being half-blooded. They bowed down to his feet now, cowering to the Heir to their very home. 

Once he had every Knight’s attention, he began. “Greetings, my Knights. I’m sure you all had successful summer holidays?” A collective nod, “Good. Everything is in order here, I’ve made sure of that.”

Dippet had finally caved when Tom had shown the man his memories of his previous summer. The bombs that had been only a town away, the panic spreading through the muggles, the rationing, the soldiers marching through the city streets. He finally felt seen once the headmaster understood just what he’d been sending his muggle-born and half-blood students back to for the holidays. He’d allowed Tom and any who were in need of a place to reside over the break. It had been the best summer he’d ever had. No gardening in the sweltering London heat, no incompetent children running around him, and certainly no Mrs. Cole. It was bliss.

“Now, we shall get to what everyone has accomplished later at our meeting. I must ask, though, who is this new student that’s joined the Eagles?” He raised a brow, looking around, scanning his followers’ faces. Some wore a sneer, others a thoughtful look. “Well?”

It was Malfoy who spoke up, “There has been a transfer student. He was the very first to be sorted, so you’d just missed it. The sorting took approximately five minutes.”

Tom nodded, “And his name?”

“Hadrian Evans.”

That explained the negative reaction from his housemates. The boy was not a pureblood, perhaps a half-blood like himself? Tom gave a hum of acknowledgement and began to grab food. 

So, Hadrian? This would certainly be an interesting last year. He would keep an eye on the boy, slowly getting closer to him. Hadrian Evans would be his, whether that entailed becoming a Knight or something more… only time would tell.

Shit. Fuck . Harry couldn’t think of any expletive that correctly detailed just how utterly screwed he was. Tom Riddle. How did he find himself in a staring contest with his future prophesied enemy? 

He’d unconsciously trailed the man while he settled himself, then when their eyes met, Harry’d felt a shudder wrack through his body. He better not have just tried to get into my mind , he thought to himself. If he found out the man had used Legilimency on him, Harry would castrate him. 

It was slightly reassuring that he hadn’t changed himself at all, he still had those blue eyes and hair . Now, at least, Harry wouldn’t be forced to see a hairless-cat looking creature cackling. 

He had immediately broken the connection, an embarrassed heat crawling up his neck. Though he looked up when the person to his left nudged his foot under the table. 

“Hey, name’s Daniel. Daniel Uttlebe,” he’d introduced himself, sticking his hand out. 

Harry took the hand, “Hadrian Evans, though I’m sure you caught that already. What year are you in?”

Daniel eyed him speculatively, then came to some conclusion, as he spoke next. “Seventh, NEWT year is gonna be positively dreadful. How about yourself?”

“Same here. I hope it’s not too bad, I haven’t been to school in a solid year!” he tried to smile as he said it, but Harry knew it came out flat. 

Then another voice, a girl across from him, a girl with black hair and glasses the size of her forehead, though not as clunky as Harry's own. “Danny, don’t scare the new kid,” she reached across the table and slapped Daniel’s arm, “Hi, I’m Helena Starcarov, call me Lena. This one beside me is Marie Alecea," the pointed to the person next to herself, a small girl with chocolate waves and a button-nose, "and the one disgustingly cuddling Danny is Felicity Margesse. She’s Head Girl this year, first ‘claw in years!” She smiled as she introduced everyone, though gave the cuddling pair a sneer before smirking. 

Harry didn’t know what to do next, he’d never had to make new friends, he’d always been the approached, not the approacher. Did he ask them about classes, how they knew each other? Idiot, they obviously go to the same school and are in the same house. Luckily, he was drawn out of his inner turmoil by the witch with white-blonde ringlets- Felicity was it?- speaking to him.

“Hey, like Lena said, I’m Felicity. You can call me that, but all my friends call me Luci. I’m Head Girl, so feel free to come to me with any questions you may or may not have.” With that she went back to snuggling Daniel’s side, giving out a content hum. 

He nodded, then looked at the other girl. Marie stayed quiet, and appeared to be lost in a book- typical Ravenclaw , he thought. “Well, it’s nice to meet you all. Everyone calls me Harry, so feel free to use that. I’m honestly not sure what to do right now, this is all so new to me.”

They, of course, didn’t realise that Harry was talking about making friends, and thought he was talking about school.

“It’s not that hard. Right now you can just start eating, there’s no passing out schedules until the morning. We can help you in the morning, you and I are gonna be sharing a dorm. Two to a dorm, I’ve always had the spare bed in mine. Lucky you, huh!” Daniel gave a chuckle then started putting some chicken and vegetables on his plate. 

“Honestly, Danny, could you be any louder?” Felicity grumbled while she, too, began plating food. 

Harry decided to just roll with it for now. So far it had worked out in his favour. 

“So what classes are you- for Merlin’s sake Marie, you have to eat something !- what classes are you taking, Harry?” Helena- Lena , asked. She piled some food onto Marie’s plate as well as her own. Then she tried to pry the book from her hands, but let out a shriek as a wordless stinging hex was sent her way. Marie let out a smirk, then closed her book, giving in to the other’s pushing. 

“What- Oh! I’m taking Potions, DADA, History of Magic, Astronomy, and Care of Magical Creatures.”

At that, Marie perked up, finally looking at him. “You like astronomy?” 

He saw a spark of hope flash across the girl’s eyes, and smiled, glad to have another night-sky-fanatic. “Yes! I memorised all the constellations when I was younger, and stars are just so beautiful. Not to mention the moon, it’s fascinating how it affects things like the gravitational pull on the Earth and the tides.” He felt like Hermione, gushing about a class, but Marie seemed to eat it up.

She gave him a tentative smile, then said “I think I’m going to like you.”

The three others, who’d been listening in, gave surprised looks towards the smaller girl. She seemed to shy away under the scrutiny, but just continued eating. 

“I’m so proud of you, my baby’s growing up!” Lena gushed, wrapping Marie in a tight hug. Marie let out a groan, uselessly attempting to escape the other’s grasp. 

“You’re lucky, it took me until halfway through second year to get her to admit to being friends. It looks like it’ll take you a week!” Daniel sulked, while Luci patted his head in a fond way. 

Harry chuckled a bit then went back to eating.

The Feast went by rather quickly, small-talk was had and then the Headmaster stood, silencing everyone.

“Welcome back! I’m happy to announce that the debacle from last year has been dealt with, and we shan’t worry about it further. I would like to give these precautions, as I do yearly: students, please refrain from visiting the Forbidden Forest, I’d rather not have to ask the centaurs to stage a manhunt in case of your inevitable kidnapping; I would like to emphasise that there will be nobody allowed in the old astronomy tower without an adult present, the thing is a good gust of wind away from collapsing; lastly, I’d like to let you all know that we have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher! Please give a warm welcome to Mister Zenith.” He clapped his hands once, before continuing, “and with that, please retreat to your dormitories. Classes begin in the morning, so be sure to get some sleep.” He eyed the ravenclaw table knowingly. He clapped once more and the student body all rose to begin the trek to their rooms. 

“Come on, follow me,” said Danny, “Luci has to report to the Headmaster right now, some Head Girl duty or something.”

They walked through the corridors, coming to stop in front of a portrait of a Knight. The knight asked a riddle, and Danny answered easily enough. “He uses the same one every year for the first week. It’s so the first years get the hang of it.”

They strolled through the common room- stone walls mounted with bookshelves upon bookshelves, navy couches, a few fireplaces here and there, all relatively cosy- and Danny led Harry to the boys’ dorms. 

“This is where you’ll be sleeping for the rest of the year. Bathroom’s over there,” he pointed to the door opposite the entrance, “This is your bed,” then he pointed to the bed closest to the door. There was no trunk at the foot, though he imagined the bag he’d been given earlier would no doubt suffice for now. “I’m gonna go shower. Feel free to look around, though I’d advise not touching my trunk, it’s warded against anyone but Luci and myself.” With that he grabbed a bag of toiletries from his bed and disappeared behind the bathroom door. 

Harry let out a bone-deep sigh, questioning how this all even happened. He’d only been standing in the headmaster’s office, then that blasted time-turner just appeared. Weren’t they all supposedly destroyed?! 

He rubbed his hands over his face, consequently knocking off his glasses. Guess even a time-traveller still needs glasses.

Just then he felt a cold shiver wrack through his body. He looked around, but there had been no change to any of his surroundings. Marking it as ‘ something to be thought about later ’, Harry got ready for bed. It had been the longest day, and he needed to attend classes the next day. 

As he muttered under his breath about the impending boredom that his classes would surely bring, Danny stepped into the room, a towel around his waist. 

Harry turned bright red and promptly turned around. There had been a few love-bites around his collarbone and no he was not about to check out his new- taken- roommate . 

Danny gave a low chuckle, “Sorry, I forgot I wasn’t alone anymore. I’ll just-” with that he grabbed his night clothes and changed in the bathroom. 

Harry’s heart was pounding; he hadn’t known he even liked blokes! He filed that in the same place as the ‘how did this happen’ thought and decided he’d had enough. He threw on a nightshirt, shucked off his slacks, and crawled under his covers. As he lay there, on his back and blinking, he realised the canopy was enchanted just like the Great Hall- it showed the sky. Right now there were thousands of stars above him, and Harry traced the constellations he recognized- The Big Dipper, Delphine, Ursa Major and Ursa Minor . A small smile broke out across his face. Yeah, he was gonna be okay. He’d prolong the inevitable breakdown for a later time, a time where he didn’t have to worry about acting like he’d never been to Hogwarts before, that he hadn’t spent the better part of his last six years of life there. 

With that thought, he cleared his mind and shut his eyes- he’d have a long day tomorrow. 

Tom thought about emeralds. He knew now that eyes could hold such beautiful gems, and how lovely that they were his house’s colour. He tuned back into the argument at hand. He was having his own annual Welcome Feast- but with more alcohol and torture. 

“They should not be allowed to interact with us! Such filth needs to be exterminated!” Ah, yes, Avery. He was the first person Tom had ever cast the Cruciatus on. Hey, in his defence, the boy had been spewing exactly this type of bullshit. “Mudbloods and Halfies, they don’t deserve to be in our proximity.”

Tom raised a brow. It seemed one of his knights had forgotten just who he served under. Avery seemed to feel his stare and visibly shivered. Good , Tom thought, I am superior to you in every way imaginable. Instead of voicing his thoughts though, Tom just cast a silent crucio and watched in mildly concealed amusement as the man writhed, biting his lip so as to not let out a scream. Tom smirked when he ended the curse- a mere fifteen seconds, really, the boy was exaggerating- then addressed the group.

“It seems one of us has forgotten just who he bows down to. Tell me, Avery, does your father find it amusing that his only heir follows a mere half-blood?” At the quiet whimper, Tom continued. “I can’t imagine so; the things you speak of have obviously come directly from his own mouth. Now tell me,” he addressed the rest of the Knights, as well as a new recruit, “Do you think I should let our dear Avery be? Or do you agree that he deserves more?”

There were a few smirks crossing faces- Malfoy, Lestrange, Nott- and one with a look of contempt. “Something wrong, Black?”

He seemed to straighten his already perfect posture, pure-blooded git . “No, sir. I merely wish it could be myself who had the privilege to partake.”

Interesting. Tom had known that Black didn’t like Avery, but it seemed Nott’s loyalty to him was unwavering, despite his blood status. “Very well then, you may.”

At the look of pure, unadulterated joy creeping onto his face, Black stood. Avery let out a pathetic whimper again, seeming to accept his fate. He was ashen-faced, looking seconds from collapsing. Tom sat back and watched the show. 

The sound of Avery’s shouts were music to his ears, and the look of pure fear crossing his face as Black slit his wrist, a thin line of blood forming. He produced a vial from somewhere and collected the drops, squeezing the boy’s forearm until there was a steady stream into the small glass. Once it was filled sufficiently (at least to Black’s judgement), the man put a stopper in and stalked over to Tom.

At the raised brow, Black bent down to one knee, his head lowered in a show of submission. “I would like to gift you with this. My family specialises in blood-related rituals. I don’t particularly care where the blood comes from, blood is blood and it all tastes the same.” At this he looked straight into Tom’s eyes and a manic gleam seemed to spread over his eyes. 

Tom was pleased. No, he was ecstatic . 

Turns out the rumours of the Black family being cursed with madness were true, and it seemed to have affected the heir much sooner than anyone thought possible. Usually familial curses were triggered at one’s coming-of-age, but Orion Black was an exception it seemed. 

Tom took the proffered vial and examined it. “Excellent. I am very pleased. Black, what are you expecting from this trade? A favour? Power? Perhaps something more… nefarious?”

A blush spread down the boy’s neck, but he kept the calm, endearing facade on.  “Never, sir. I merely wanted to show my gratitude for being allowed to participate in this whole thing.”

Black was the new recruit. He’d been onboarded and marked (with a temporary runic sequence that connected Tom’s own runic sequence to that person’s location and emotions) two months before school had ended. Tom hadn’t been sure if having him there was the greatest decision, especially considering the type of influence his family had- that is to say a lot . 

This change in plans was most welcome and gave Tom the perfect chance to begin a new system he’d been pondering for a while. 

“Black, how would you like to be a part of my inner-circle?”

Black’s face lit it, his back losing its earlier tension. “Please, call me Orion, and I’d be most honoured. I would do anything to gain your trust, sir, and the chance to get close to you is as desirable as a bucketful of galleons.”

Tom, once again, found himself Very Pleased. Who knew, huh? The madness clouding the other’s mind, he didn’t realise the implications he’d made, but Tom appreciated honesty above all else. 

“Wonderful,” he said, “I will mark you at a later date, most likely Samhain night.” Black- Orion had taken the dismissal for what it was and went to sit back down, but before he reached his seat, Tom called out. “Yaxley, switch with Bla- Orion.”

The glower the man shot Orion could have melted steel. 

With that situated, the meeting progressed further. No notable things were said, and Tom found himself bored. At least the next morning would bring his schedule, and with that Hadrian Evan’s schedule. Perhaps they’d share a class or two? Knowing his luck, that was a distinct possibility. After all, he was related to Salazar Slytherin himself. 

With that thought, he cut the current conversation short (what was it about? The first years?) by standing from his chair gracefully. “Alright, meeting commenced. I’m going to go to my chambers and if you know what’s best for you, you will all be going to your own as well. We have an early morning tomorrow, and I refuse to be late because someone forgot to set their wand-alarm, or they’d stayed up reading too late. I know for a fact there is only one of us here who has a woman, so I expect all of your faces to be clean and presentable by seven a.m. sharp. Then, we shall ascend to the Great Hall as a united front and get a feel for how this year will go.”

He’d begun walking as he talked, nearly to the door. As he reached for the handle, another thought struck him. “Seeing as I am Head Boy now, we will only have monthly meetings. Not every other week, only once a month. It keeps my workload light and provides me time to figure out everything about this new ‘transfer student’.”

At the various hums of approval, Tom exited, his robes billowing behind him (yes, he’d charmed them, and no, he’d never tell anyone how. Ever .)

Chapter Text

Harry awoke to the sunrise. 

Not the actual sunrise, but it seemed the ‘skylight’ feature of his canopy wasn’t just for decoration. At least he needn’t set an alarm every night?

He groaned as he sat up, pushing aside his curtains (had he closed them the night before?) to get ready for the day. Danny was still asleep, or trying to be. Seems like someone’s not a morning person…

He stretched and grabbed his uniform to go get ready. In the shower, he thought about what he was going to do. He had to attend classes, despite the fact he’d already fought a bloody war . Whatever. He’d also need to keep an eye on Riddle, maybe they had a few mutual classes; if he recalled correctly, Riddle had been in more classes than anyone before Hermione came along and added two more classes to the record (thanks to the time-turner). 

He didn’t know what to do with the people he’d met last night. Harry was used to people using him for his fame, so he didn’t know what to make of these ones. Only time would tell.

By the time he’d emerged- robe on, tie attempted- Danny had finally rolled out of bed. Literally. He was on the floor, grumbling about his bum hurting. 

Harry chuckled, which seemed to knock the boy from his musings. Danny looked at Harry, “Mate, I completely forgot you existed. Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah, the skylight is rather bothersome, though,” he replied.

“Oh, forgot to tell you about that. If you can cast a strong stasis charm, one that lasts over twelve hours, then it should stay like the night sky. It makes it nice to read in bed, though, when it’s sunny out.” He stood and donned his clothes as he explained, Harry turning towards his trunk and looking for anything he might need this morning. 

“I’ll walk you to breakfast today. Usually, the girls and I meet up around seven, unless one of us sleeps in. Sometimes classes start at weird times, too, so there’s also that.” Danny shrugged and gathered a book- Advanced Arithmancy, Explained - and his wand. 

Harry followed the boy out of the dorms and to the Great Hall, content to let the silence continue. It wasn’t stifling or awkward, it was rather calming. 

Once they entered the Hall, the girls waved them over. They sat in a different area from dinner, more towards the middle. 

“Hey, Harry!” Lena called out when she noticed them enter. There weren’t too many up yet, that is to say only a few Slytherins, several Ravenclaws, two Hufflepuffs, and no Lions. That fact amused Harry a bit, of course they all slept in. 

He sent Lena a grin and sat across from Marie, who was, once again, absorbed in a book. 

“So, how was your first night in the dorms?” Luci asked, genuinely curious.

Harry took a moment to answer, filling a bowl with yoghurt and granola. “Honestly? I slept like a log.” At the confused glances and amused smirk from Marie, Harry continued, “sorry- muggle euphemism. Just means I slept well and deeply. How about you?”

With that, they began to chat about the dorms- the three girls all shared before Luci got the Head Girl dorm- and the common room. 

Someone else walked into the Hall and Harry glanced at the movement, scanning the room. Old habits die hard, I guess , he mused, before he once again made eye contact with Riddle. At least this time Riddle just continued on his way, not prolonging it, so Harry was able to watch him.

As he watched the man take a seat, he felt something nudge him in the side. He looked over and found a smirking Danny. “Taking an interest in Riddle, ‘ey?”

Harry felt his face grow hot from incredulity. Him?? Fancy Riddle??? Harry gave an awkward laugh and tried to bury himself in his yoghurt. Sadly, his new acquaintances didn’t let him off the hook so easily. 

Lena piped up, “I have heard he doesn’t mind the gender. Just so long as they’re willing and interested, he’ll fu-”

“Lena!” Luci all but shouted, smacking the girl beside her. Lena just sent her a sly grin and shrugged. 

“I’ve never actually heard of him being in a relationship,” Marie added quietly. Harry hadn’t even realised she was listening in. 

As Evans began squawking and growing redder by the second, Tom observed the five eagles. He was fascinated. Had one of his followers upset Tom, he would have them on the floor, writhing in agony in less time than it took to say ‘Hogwarts’. He interlaced his fingers and brought them to his mouth in order to cover the smirk playing across his face. Yes, this Hadrian Evans would be some of the most fun he would have this year, he could feel it. 

Not only was the boy interesting in a purely observational form, but merlin, his eyes . Tom was half-convinced the boy wasn’t even real based on those two orbs alone. And, above all else, the boy was fit . Tom glanced at the body partly concealed by school robes and saw Evans’ waist and arm. They were perfect, just Tom’s type. 

“You know, if you like guys we don’t mind.” Luci said, interrupting Danny and Lena’s teasing. 

Harry turned to her, sending her a grateful smile. “I’m honestly not sure. I’ve never actually had the time to think about it.”

“I see. Hey, what school did you go to before this?” Danny asked, chewing on his bagel. 

Harry’s mind turned to mush. Probably should’ve planned out a more in depth backstory . He chuckled a bit and scratched the back of his head in a nervous gesture. “Funny story actually-”

Before he could continue, there was a pop and suddenly their schedules were sitting besides their plates. Saved by the bell…

The other four picked up their papers and began comparing schedules. “Yes! We have potions with the Slytherins. Too bad it’s at eight in the morning.” Danny mumbled. 

Harry glanced at his own schedule and blanched. He had potions at eight. With the Slytherins. 

“Hey, nice! We have two of the same classes today.” he said, gesturing to Harry’s parchment.

Harry gave a shaky smile back and scanned the rest of it.

Not too bad, class-wise. He’d have trouble memorising the random times, but he’d deal with it. They spent the rest of breakfast talking about their classes before they split up and went to find their first classes. 

Upon reaching the potions classroom Harry spotted a group of Slytherins already waiting by the door. Danny nodded his head to a few, which surprised Harry. “You know them?” he asked.

“Yeah, a lot of the people in our year grew up together. The purebloods tend to have their kids around the same time, if not the same year. It’s why there are so many seventh years this year.”

Harry hummed. That made sense, there were more in this group than what seemed normal. “Interesting.”

Danny nodded and they approached the group. “Hey guys. Nice summers?” And with that Danny was sucked into a conversation with a few others, Harry lingering awkwardly around the outside of the group. 

“Excuse me, I don’t believe we’ve met.” 

Harry started at the voice that was directly behind him. He turned, wand in hand and at the person’s throat before either could blink. 

It was Tom bloody Riddle. 

The man gave him a sly grin and held eye contact. Harry felt a sudden presence in his mind, and immediately broke eye contact, shaking his head. Tom pursed his lips. 

“You know, it’s rude to point your wand at someone’s throat.” he said, trying to inch away.

Harry wasn’t having it. He backed Riddle into the wall, a few people quieting to watch the display. 

“It’s rude to sneak up on people.”

“Woah! Harry, hang on a sec!” Danny appeared next to him and was waving his hands frantically. “I’m sure it was a misunderstanding, whatever it was!”

It was Harry’s turn to purse his lips. It would be so, so easy to end it right here. He had the man under his wand for goodness sake! Two simple words, he was sure he had enough resentment for the man that he’d be able to take care of the problem on the first try. 

Harry felt a hand circle his wrist, jerking him from his own head. “My, my, such words. That look on your face, one might think you meant to kill them,” Tom muttered.

Harry jumped back, like he’d been shocked. He’d have to make sure that he didn’t get too close to Riddle, or at least be more aware of his own mind. “Seems like you’ve got experience in that department, ‘ey Riddle?”

Tom’s eyes flashed a shade of red for a second before he got control of his features again. He raised a brow, “What are you implying, Evans?”

“How do you know my name?”

“How do you know mine?”

Bloody bastard , he thought. They’d somehow switched positions, Harry now backed against a wall with Riddle trapping him with both arms near Harry’s head. 

Such a mouth on him, came a voice from both nowhere and everywhere. Harry didn’t think, he just reacted. One second he was paralyzed, the next Riddle stood nursing his reddening cheek. Harry had just slapped Tom Riddle. Voldemort. His parents’ murderer. His own murderer.

Merlin that felt great. 

“Don’t you dare go into my mind like that ever again.” With that, Harry stormed into the now open classroom door. 

Danny trailed after him and sat down next to Harry at the very front. He didn’t say anything, and neither did Harry. 

After everyone got settled, it was just him and Danny from Ravenclaw, Slughorn began his introductory speech. 

He told them how he expected great things from them this year, it was their NEWT year after all. After his brief introduction to Harry, Slughorn sent them off to brew a “simple” Felix Felicis . Slughorn’s words, not his. 

Throughout the entire class, Harry had felt eyes on the back of his neck. He knew it was Riddle without needing to look. Nobody had ever stood up to Riddle after third year, at least that Harry knew of. He had a smile on his face the whole time, occasionally getting a questioning look from Danny. Every time Harry would just shrug and continue following the instructions. 

The boy had slapped him. Him, Tom Riddle, Voldemort, the heir of Slytherin. That would not go unpunished. No, Tom would see to that himself. He found himself watching the boy the entire class; he needn’t worry about the potion, he was already familiar with the brew.

He needed to gather information about him, hopefully vulnerabilities. Tom already gathered that the boy had no mental shielding whatsoever, so it wouldn’t be too hard. Although, he’d had a knack for sensing an intrusion in his mind. Hopefully it was a one-off time, but Tom would have to be very discreet if he wished to try again. 

When Evans had all but pinned him to the wall, Tom had blanked. The boy had strength, but one wouldn’t expect it from his stature. He looked like he could be knocked over by a first year, much less pin Tom to a wall. His reflexes, too. They were incredible. Tom hadn’t had time to react before there was a wand making contact with his jugular. As the boy had backed him into the wall, he felt something primal stir in his gut. 

Tom was very familiar with sexual urges. He took care of those methodically, never the same person unless they were both clear there were no strings. He’d never felt this desire for such activities. Usually it only occurred if he was especially stressed. It was frightening, it was new. 

The emerald orbs had stared unrelentingly into his own, practically begging to be invaded. So, Tom entered. He’d only been able to glean the surface thoughts, he had only tried wandless, wordless Legilimency recently, but what he’d found was fascinating in and of itself. 

The boy was thinking of killing him. 

Not harming, not a prank, not even jokingly. He’d actually considered using the spell that Tom had just begun to use on small creatures he found in the dungeons. 

And the fact he held that much malice for him of all people? Preposterous. The boy hadn’t even met him, in fact they’d made contact only through eyes, and that had only been twice. Before Tom could think, he’d reached out. He’d said something, he couldn’t recall what. Yes, that’s how turned on he’d been. Perhaps he had a thing for murder?

All he knew was that he needed to be close to Evans. 

Then, the boy had the nerve to imply Tom had killed someone before. Yes, maybe indirectly, but his first actual kill would go to his father! He’d backed the boy into the wall this time, keeping eye contact the whole time, asking how the boy knew his name. When he’d heard the curse, he’d almost laughed. Then, for some reason, the boy slapped him. Before he could say anything, he’d stormed off, Uttlebe following him. He was astonished, really. Nobody had the nerve to treat Tom like that. 

And so, through potions, Tom was in a trance. To an outsider, it would look like he was plotting the boy’s demise. Only Tom knew that he was imagining all the places he could bend the boy over to put him in his place. 

Once Slughorn called for the end of class, requesting samples of their potions to be graded, Tom exited. He was the first one out, not allowing himself to look at the boy any longer. He had Transfiguration next, and Merlin knew he’d need all of his wits about him for that. 

Harry had History of Magic next, which he shared with Marie. They met up in the hall, silently walking together. They sat near the back, “it’s taught by a ghost, if we’re in the back then we can read by ourselves,” and got out their history textbooks. It would’ve been the most boring class on the planet Earth, but Marie made it enjoyable enough. She would point out little mistakes that magical people thought happened in the muggle world, such as what the refrigerator was, and they would share knowing looks when another student would start nodding off. 

Once it was over, they lingered a bit, hoping to avoid the crowds. They slowly made their way to the Great Hall for lunch when they were interrupted by a shriek. They both looked to where it came from, Harry fingering his wand, when a girl came running through the hall. She had tears streaming down her face and her robes were in disarray. Just as she was about to pass them, the girl tripped on the uneven cobblestone and fell face-first. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Harry hesitantly asked her. 

The girl got to her hands and knees and started to cry harder. At a closer look, Harry noticed she was a Ravenclaw. 

Marie quietly knelt down to the girl’s level and rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. The girl flinched at first, but after realising they weren’t there to harm her, relaxed into the touch. “I’m Marie. I’m a seventh year. What’s your name?”

The girl sniffed and tried wiping at her eyes, “I’m Alyssa,” she suppressed another sob, and grunted from frustration at the tremble in her voice, “I-I’m a third year.”

Marie started to rub circles into Alyssa’s back and murmured comforting words to the girl. Harry couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he couldn’t help but think of Luna. She’d been relentlessly bullied, up until fifth year, when she’d been outed as a member of the DA. 

The two girls got up and began walking, Marie sending Harry an apologetic wince. Harry waved her off, signing he would go to the Hall. Marie nodded and walked Alyssa back to the common room to talk more privately. 

Harry wasn’t quite ready to see people just yet, so he started to wander the hallways instead. His wanderings led him to many of the secret passages he’d become quite familiar with throughout his years at Hogwarts. Especially in his fourth and fifth years, seeing as his own housemates hadn’t even let him off despite the fact they’d been in the same dorms for years prior. 

He was reminiscing over the side-passage behind the painting of the dueling knights that led to the front of the transfiguration hall. It wasn’t until someone grabbed his arms and twisted them into an alcove a few paintings down that he realised what was happening. 

“Ack- what the fuck-”

“Shut up.”

Harry’s head snapped up, once again face to face with Riddle. Of course . 

“What do you want, and why’d you drag me in here?!”

Riddle cast a wordless silencing charm on Harry. “What, you thought you’d get away with violating me?” He was holding back a smirk as he said it, irritating Harry. 

No, just thought you’d be more of an exhibitionist. He thought, rolling his eyes internally. Externally he was tense, a spring loaded trap ready to release at the slightest hint of pressure. 

Now wouldn’t that be fun, came a voice in Harry’s head. Harry signaled to his mouth, showcasing his frustration. 

Riddle chuckled, a corner of his mouth coming up and a dimple making a momentary show. He waved his hand to cancel the charm.

“Would you kindly stop entering my mind without permission? I have no need to know what you may or may not be into.” He gave Riddle a deadpan stare, crossing his arms but keeping his wand in hand.

“Excuse me?” 

“ Now wouldn’t that be fun , like, good for you, you know what you want, but I don’t need you telling me that in my head!”

Tom just raised a brow, frustration in his eyes. “I didn’t project anything into your mind.”

Harry actually guffawed, disbelief crossing his features. “At least you’re admitting to half of the problem,” he muttered.

Tom shoved Harry against the wall, this again?? , and seemed to be restraining himself from something. Probably cursing me, Crucio perhaps?  

“Listen, boy,” Harry tried to suppress the flinch that wracked through his body, and Tom faltered, but only for a moment, “Nobody gets away with insulting nor assaulting me.”

Harry shivered as Tom spoke by his ear, something in his gut stirring at the deep tone the man was using. 

Wait.

This was Riddle. 

Harry was not here to fraternise with the enemy.

He pushed Riddle off of him, pointing his wand at the man. He slowly backed out of the alcove, just waiting for the repercussions of his actions. But, surprisingly, Riddle let him go without pause, smirking all the way. 

Once Harry was back in the hall, he sprinted.

Chapter Text

Harry ran. He didn’t want to see if Riddle changed his mind about letting him go.

Just as he turned a corner, he ran straight into somebody. A very tall somebody, actually. Harry looked up in surprise and was greeted with auburn hair, a downturned lip, and a familiar twinkle in sky-blue eyes. 

“Ten points from Ravenclaw for running in the Halls,” the man smiled warmly at Harry, “Now, my boy, what are you trying to get away from so fast?”

Dumbledore… “Nothing, sir. Just want to get to my friends for lunch.” Harry tried to give a reassuring smile, but he could tell it fell short at the former headmaster’s furrowed brows. 

“If you’re having trouble, do not hesitate to come find me. If it is who I suspect, then I would be glad to have a talk with them.”

It was Harry’s turn to furrow his brows. Who he suspects… no . “With all due respect, sir…?”

“Professor Dumbledore.”

“Right. With all due respect, Professor Dumbledore, nobody was harming me. I’m only excited to get to lunch.”

“If you say so my dear boy,” there was a hint of suspicion in the man’s voice that grated on Harry’s nerves. It's sixth year all over again, jeez.

Harry nodded and walked past him. He felt eyes on the back of his neck and gritted his teeth. He sped up his walking, finally making his way to the Great Hall. 

As he neared his new friends, he received a few questioning glances. He didn’t respond, so they shrugged it off. That was nice, if he'd been in Gryffindor they surely would have pestered him until he told them everything that happened in the last fifteen or so minutes. He piled some food on his plate- two pieces of bread, some roast beef, and a helping of fruit- and tuned into the conversation around him. Seemed like Marie had wrapped up with the girl pretty fast.

“Guess who got slapped today in front of the entire class?” Danny said.

“Honestly Danny, what did you do this time?” Lena drawled, smirking, “I don’t see any lasting marks, and you’re positively pants at Episkey, so it must not have been a hard hit.”

“Oh it was a hard hit alright, and hey! It wasn’t me!” Danny squawked. 

Harry chuckled and began eating his sandwich.

“It was Riddle!” At that, the three girls froze, and an excited gleam took over their eyes. Oh merlin, save me.

“Oh?” Said Luci, “And who on Morgana’s green Earth would have the nerve to attack Slytherin’s prince?”

Danny smirked, “It was our resident-”

“It was totally Harry.” Marie interrupted. 

Harry sent her an incredulous look, “How’d you know?!”

The girl simply smiled and returned to her book- Advanced Arithmancy: Explained. They must be in the same class, he thought. 

“Harry! We don’t go slapping our crushes! That is not how you court someone!” Lena exclaimed.

Harry turned bright red, his mind going back to the alcove, and to how good it felt to have Tom- Riddle - pressed against him. “He is not my crush, Lena!”

The girl only hummed and sent a mischievous look towards him. Harry sighed, going back to his sandwich.

Danny cleared his throat. “Ahem, anyways, apparently Riddle was in Harry’s head. Harry didn’t like that. Our baby eagle showed them all he’s got talons as sharp as they come.”

Harry side-eyed Danny, to the amusement of the girls, and huffed, taking another bite. “I wouldn’t have needed to if the bastard would keep his eyes to himself. Merlin, he even touched me-”

“He what?!” Luci gasped.

Harry’s ears began to heat, “No! Not like that! Merlin, Luci. No, he just touched my hand.” Luci pouted, and Danny put a hand over hers in a mock-comfort. “Say… are you two dating?” Harry asked.

The two sent each other fond grins as Luci explained, “Not dating per se. We’ve had a marriage contract for as long as we’ve been born. We merely embraced it.”

Understanding dawned on Harry. Another weird pureblood custom . Marie sent him a knowing look, “Yes, it’s a custom commonly practised in the wizarding world. It took me forever to understand how they can be okay with the situation.” She huffed then went back to her reading. 

Harry shrugged. “So, how’s our house’s Quidditch team?”

Danny went off on a rant about how they needed a new seeker because their normal one was banned from playing due to excessively missing practise and their reserve had graduated the year prior. 

“Do you play at all, Harry?” He asked.

Harry nodded, thinking back to his years as Gryffindor’s seeker. “I’m a dab hand at flying.”

“You should try out! Tryouts are being held this weekend, Sunday I believe. I dunno, there should be a poster somewhere on the notice board.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Suddenly the food that wasn’t on peoples’ plates disappeared, signalling the end of lunch. “Well, we best be off. What class do you have right now?”

Harry thought back to his schedule, “Self Study. The headmaster’s provided me with a project to do in exchange for my light class-load.”

“Oh, have fun with that one. I heard the headmaster assigns crazy projects, almost unsolvable. Good luck, you’re gonna need it, mate.”

With that, the four left, leaving Harry to finish off his sandwich. 

Once finished, he meandered to the library to find something to research. He already knew all about the year prior. Tom Riddle had unleashed Slytherin’s monster upon the school- that monster being a thousand-and-a-half year old basilisk. 

Harry shook his head, his thoughts going back to his second year. Honestly, he had no idea how he got so lucky; not only was he handed Godrick Gryffindor’s sword out of nowhere, but Fawkes had come to the rescue. How had the bird even managed to get into the chamber? As far as Harry knew, the only way in was the girls’ bathroom, and the only way to open that entry was with Parseltongue. 

He shook his head to rid him of the thoughts. If he thought too long on it he might realise something he was not ready to confront. 

He wandered through the shelves, absentmindedly fingering the books. When he found himself in the transfiguration section, his thoughts turned to his late godfather. Sirius had told him that the marauders had undergone transformation in their fifth year. Maybe that’s what he should work on? He had plenty of time. 

Just as the thought crossed his mind, he noticed an old, worn, little black book. There was no title. Harry took it from the shelf and opened the front to see what looked like a hand-written diary. 

Harry felt uneasy, his last encounter with an old diary wasn’t great- that’s an understatement - but was relieved when he saw the pages filled out. 

In faded green ink was written ‘The Art of the Animagi ’. That seemed promising. 

Harry looked around, spotted an open table and sat down to read. The book was fascinating . It had all the relevant information- how to spot one, how the transformation can affect someone, how to undergo transformation, and even alternatives to some of the requirements. Harry wondered how he’d never seen this book before, then remembered the overhaul that had been carried out on the library several years prior to his education.  Animagi aren’t even dark, though…

Harry spent the rest of his Self Study period reading the first two chapters- The Basics and How To Prepare Oneself - when his wand buzzed. 

He cast a quick Tempus and cursed. It was good he’d set an alarm, or he’d be late to Defense, the one class he was looking forward to. Harry gathered the quill and inkwell he’d been using to jot down notes with, along with the book. 

He rushed through the halls to get to the fifth floor. Once he was close to the door, he slowed down, gathering himself. 

Upon entering the classroom, he noticed three things: this was the biggest Defence room he’d ever been in, he’d have two of his new friends with him, and, annoyingly enough, Tom Riddle was there. 

When Danny and Luci noticed him, they waved him over. “Glad you found your way here, I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost,” Luci said.

“Sorry mate, I’ll have to take you on a tour of the castle soon. Completely forgot you haven’t been here before!”

“Forgot? Or just got caught up in staring at Luci?” Harry sent a sly grin to Danny, who merely shrugged and wrapped an arm around Luci. She huffed but melted into his side.

Harry chuckled and was going to comment, when the professor walked in. 

“Good afternoon, class, I am Professor Merryweather. I’ve taught you all since you were first years, so I expect nothing but your best for your NEWT year.” She scanned the crowd, noticing Harry. “Ah, yes, the transfer student. I will need to gauge how far along in your studies you are. I’ve been told you were homeschooled before this, yes?”

So Dippet did think ahead, thank Merlin . “Yes ma’am.”

The professor hummed, “Alright, I believe I will make today a duelling class, then. You will be with the top student- mostly because I’m curious how the two of you will pair. I’m not sure if you’ve been told or not, but I was born with the gift to see one’s magical aura. Yours matches his in a way I rarely get to see, forgive me for my curiosity.”

She turned and began to write names on the board behind her. Harry looked over at his friends and found Danny trying to stifle a laugh and Luci smacking him on the arm. Harry sent them both a raised brow, but understood when he looked back at the board.

Merlin, how could he forget Riddle was the top student in everything ?? Just as he thought it, he scanned the room and made eye contact with Riddle. Harry quickly broke it, having learned his lesson, but still made his way over to where the other was standing.

“We meet again.” Riddle said, giving Harry a once-over.

Harry nodded, then turned his back to the man. Merryweather gave them a briefing on how she wanted the duels to go, saying they needed to create their own barriers so any stray spells wouldn’t interfere with other duellers. She emphasised the rule that one could not use any spells, charms, or jinxes which would cause severe bodily harm or cause the loss of consciousness that lasts more than a few minutes. She instructed them to create a five metre radius around themselves

“I will know if there is any foul play, so don’t even try it. A fifty-point penalty will be had to the guilty party and a detention for both duellers. With that said… begin .”

Harry shot off a tickling jinx before Tom could blink, testing the waters. Tom deflected the jinx with a wave of his wand, sending a condescending smirk back. Harry sent a few more spells his way, but Tom only cast a Protego. He didn’t even move. 

“Is that really all you’ve got? I’d expected more from you, boy,” Riddle sneered.

Harry’s vision became clouded with red. Something about Tom Riddle just always managed to get under Harry’s skin. Riddle sent a few hexes his way, Harry merely side-stepped them and sent some of his own, increasing his speed. Something flashed across Tom’s eyes and his smirk faded, a look of determination donning his stupid handsome face. Wait what?

Harry shook his head, once again expelling those thoughts from his mind. 

Harry registered that the room was quieter than before, it seemed like the other duels were finished- How much time had passed?? - and everyone was watching the two. 

Alright, I’ll give them a show.

Harry switched to casting non-verbal spells, that way nobody knew what kind they were. He sent a Bombarda, which Tom deflected off his shield into the barrier surrounding them. There was a loud explosion and Professor Merryweather pursed her lips.

The two didn’t pay anyone else any mind, both casting non-verbally at this point. Harry made sure to put up a powerful shield when Tom sent a flurry of spells his way. He grit his teeth behind the force of them all, but refused to let it fall. 

Then Tom did something unexpected. 

He pulled a Draco sodding Malfoy and summoned a snake. Not just any snake, though, he summoned a fucking boomslang. 

“Scare the boy, but do not bite,” Harry heard Tom say.

You have got to be kidding me, he thought. Well, guess that answered that question on whether parseltongue was his own ability or not; even though he’d rid himself of the horcrux, he could still understand the language of snakes. 

The boomslang nodded its head in acknowledgement and began to slither towards Harry. He ignored the approaching snake, though, in favour of throwing a Densaugeo towards Tom.

Apparently, he wasn’t expecting Harry to attack, seeing as the spell hit its mark. Suddenly Tom’s two front teeth began to grow longer and longer. Tom began freaking out, cursing at Harry with a lisp, while Harry just smirked and tried to stifle a laugh.

Then he felt something on his foot. He looked down and came face-face with the boomslang.

“Stupid human, not letting me attack my prey,” it hissed, sounding indignant (can snakes sound indignant?).

“Hey, I’m not prey.” he hissed quietly, while the professor tended to Tom with the counter-curse. 

“You are a speaker too?”  

Harry looked around, making sure nobody was listening in. “Yes, I am one of the two in this region. The other one summoned you to scare me. Where are you from? Would you like to go back?”  

The snake nodded its head, and Harry murmured a quiet Evansco . 

By that time, the professor called for the end of class and asked both Harry and Tom to stay behind. 

Merlin, when did he start referring to Riddle as Tom in his head??

Everyone left, and the two boys met Professor Merryweather at her desk. 

“I am both disappointed and ecstatic. I’m not sure which one it most prevalent now, so I’ll let you both off with a warning and a praise. Mister Riddle,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I will have no student summoning a snake, much less a venomous snake, at any time in my classroom. Is that understood?” Tom nodded his head. She turned to look at Harry, “Mister... Evans was it?”

“Yes, ma’am. Hadrian Evans, please call me Harry.”

“Very well. Harry, I will not have anyone disfiguring anyone else in my classroom. The lengthening of one's teeth can cause them to puncture their own chest. Teeth are like anils when they grow, they curve. So, am I clear on the danger of that particular curse?”

Harry nodded dejectedly. The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher of this time reminded Harry vividly of McGonagall, causing Harry to have to bite back a smile.

“That said… I am very proud of the two of you. You both provide excellent challenges for one another and can easily keep up with each other. I think this pairing will do you both very well and further the both of your educations in my class.”

The two boys murmured their thanks. 

“Dismissed.” She waved them off and they went to grab their bags.

They walked down the hall, neither speaking a word. And wasn’t that weird. Harry’d thought that he’d be in a verbal sparring match with Tom every time they faced one another.

“Good job today.” Came a quiet voice to Harry’s left. 

He whipped his head around, staring at Tom. The man was looking as if he’d licked a lemon before he smoothed his features when he noticed Harry looking. “Er… thanks.”

Tom nodded and parted from Harry, heading down to the dungeons. Harry was bewildered the entire walk to his common room. 

Upon returning to his dorm for a nap, he found a note on his bed. 

Luci and I went to get some alone time. See you at Dinner (7 o’clock)

Harry shrugged and threw the parchment onto his side-table. He shrugged off his robe and face planted into his bed, groaning when he realised he forgot to take off his glasses. He set them next to the note and set an alarm for six thirty. 

He let his eyes drift shut, feeling blissful as sleep took over.

Harry Potter. We meet again.

He looked around, but all he could see was darkness. There was a presence near him, but he couldn’t pin exactly where it was.

“Who are you?” he asked. 

Ah, you know me quite well. I’ve been with you since you were a little one. Of course that was ages ago to you, but it feels like only a few minutes have passed. 

Goosebumps formed along Harry’s arms, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. 

“What do you want from me?”

I don’t want anything per se… I merely wish for you to know of me.

Harry looked around, trying to see if there was any inconsistency in the void around him.

“Where am I?”

You are in my element, my home. I bring many here to judge their fate. In fact, I’ve judged yours twice now. Once when you were small, and once not too long ago. Tell me, how is it in this new world you find yourself in?

Harry was getting frustrated. This thing wasn’t answering any of his questions and yet expected him to answer his own?

“It could be better.”

The voice chuckled right behind him. Harry jumped and turned as fast as his body would allow. Before him- behind him?- stood a tall creature. No, tall was an understatement. Before him was a monster. It had no corporeal body, yet Harry could just make out its form. The thing seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at once. Eerily enough, Harry felt as if he knew this thing. Like he'd been around it his entire life.

“What are you?”

The thing laughed again. Finally asking the right questions.

Harry raised a brow, waiting for a response. He felt, intrinsically, that this thing wouldn’t hurt him.

Very well. I am known by many names, but most call me Death.

Harry stood frozen, then doubled over laughing. “You-” another bout of laughter took him over, “you expect me to believe that?” He took in a few deep breaths, grasping any control he could over himself. “Death is not a being. Death is a construct created by those who fear the end. Death is a concept, an idea.”

Although the being had no face, Harry could sense the being getting upset.

You do not know anything, child. I have lived for millennia, through countless worlds being destroyed and remade. I have experienced more than your mortal mind can fathom.

Harry was uncomfortable at the tone the being spoke with. “Sorry. I don’t mean to doubt you. I just… it’s hard to believe, alright?”

Very well. I will forgive this insolence. Do you have any questions for me?

Harry snorted at that. What questions didn’t he have?

“How did I get here?”

Where is ‘here’? Speak clearly.

“I mean in the past. Time-turners only go back twenty four hours, or so I thought.”

There was a hum, then a bout of silence. Then, You are not in the past. The world you came from originally destroyed all of Time’s gifts to humanity. She has since learned her lesson and has not given human beings the ability to mess with time any longer. 

“So she got rid of time-turners?”

Not quite, there were a few still lingering in your old world. 

“My old world? What does that mean? And if that’s the case, how did I end up here? I only touched the time-turner!”

Calm down, child. The voice sounded chastising, like it would be pointing its finger at Harry and telling him ‘no’. You did not encounter a real time-turner. No, yours was a fake, an attempt by another mortal to overcome Time herself. What they didn’t realise was that they actually created a device that could transport the user to another dimension. 

That shocked Harry into silence. He couldn’t believe it. There was no way he was in another dimension!

Ah but it is true. Man-made items meant to resemble godly gifts always turn out wrong somehow. Sometimes they do not work, other times they do something so outlandish that the maker never goes sane again. Luckily for you, you found one that worked- just in a roundabout way. 

“Can I ask who made it?” Harry was rather curious now.

You know him by the name Nikolas Flamel.

“The guy with the Sorcerer’s Stone?!” He supposed that checked. If Harry was alive for centuries, he’d probably get bored and try to recreate something that could not be recreated. But seriously, an interdimensional portal?

Ah, our time is up for now. I will see you soon, Harry Potter.

With that, Harry jolted awake, his wand buzzing incessantly.

Chapter Text

Tom was not usually surprised. No, in fact, he was so rarely caught off guard that he’d grown complacent. Yes, that must be why he’s thinking so much and hard about Evans. The boy was an enigma, a grain of sand just out of place. It made him uncomfortable to not know everything about this boy, it made him a potential enemy, but also a potential ally. He would have to gauge the boy’s potential through the week.

As head boy, Tom was allowed access to everyone’s schedules. He’d studied Evan’s, noting the two shared three classes: Potions, Defense, and Astrology. Tom would usually think the worst of people when he met them- that they were well-off, didn’t have to worry about food or if they’d even see another tomorrow. But something about Hadrian- Evans made him pause those thoughts. The boy wasn’t underweight (from what he could tell), but he also wasn’t fit. It looked as if he missed a few meals here and there. And that face, it seemed that whenever nobody was watching, a frown marred his features and a solemn gleam crossed his eyes. 

Tom wanted to figure out why that happened. What did the boy have to hide? Where did he come from? Why did he show up now ?

Tom’s musing was brought to a halt when sky-blue met molten chocolate. “Mister Riddle?”

He grit his teeth. That batty old man just always managed to get under his skin. Just the sound of his name on those lips made Tom want to invent an entirely new torture spell. Crucio wouldn’t be enough for him. “Yes sir?” Instead of showing his inner turmoil, Tom put on a small smile but the transfiguration professor wasn’t fooled for one moment, to Tom’s chagrin. 

“I asked if you would like to demonstrate the progress you achieved over this summer.” The students who were permitted to stay at the castle over the break were all given extra work to do. The logic was: If they're going to be in a place which permits them to legally use magic, may as well have them make good use of it!

The rising NEWT students were given the task to turn something precious to them into something seemingly innocuous. They would transfigure at least three things, present them to the class, and if you fooled every person present, including the professor, you would receive full points. Even Tom wasn’t certain he’d get full points- the Transfiguration Professor seemed to be able to see through any and everything. “I’d be happy to,” he answered. 

With that, he reached into his bag- magically expanded- and brought out a smaller bag with four items in it. He placed each upon his desk, making sure they were visible to everyone in the room. “I have here a glass champagne flute, a crystal goblet, a china teacup, and a silver bowl. Pick whichever you think has been transfigured from something important to me.” Holding his bag in his hands, he stepped back, allowing others to come inspect his items. They could do as many diagnostic charms or truth-seeking jinxes they wished, but they were not to undo the transfiguration itself. 

Fifteen minutes passed, people making random guesses. Everybody was leaning towards the silver bowl being his precious object, but there were a few with different votes. “That is enough speculation. I believe the bowl is your item. Now, Tom, would you please undo your transfigurations?”

He nodded his head and waved his wand. The four items turned into their original forms: the flute becoming a cuff-link, the goblet becoming a silver chain, the teacup turning into an elegant quill, and the bowl forming a golden goblet. 

“Excellent show of alchemy along with transfigurations. So, which one is it, my boy?” Dumbledore asked, a glint in his beady little eyes. 

Tom smirked, “None of them, sir,” and waved his wand a second time. In his hand lay not a small bag anymore, but a precious heirloom he’d recently found, the locket of Slytherin. Applause rang through the classroom, along with various shouts of awe.

The professor’s smile dropped for a moment, forming a frown, but he caught himself and fixed his face to a neutral quirk of lips. Tom had seen it though, and he revelled in it. 

The rest of class passed by much the same, two others presenting their items, then a lecture about the expectations for their last year of schooling. A few students seemed to turn green at the mention of it being their last year, but Tom was secretly excited. He would apply for the Defense position and slowly make his way through the ranks until he became the headmaster. 

Once they were dismissed, Tom told his knights to meet him in the Great Hall. He began his pursuit of Evans by travelling to Binn’s classroom. They should have just gotten released for lunch, so Evans should still be somewhere close. 

On his way up the stairs, Tom heard the telltale noises of a crying girl. He almost turned around on the spot- who in their right mind wants to deal with that mess? - when he heard a deeper voice. Curious, Tom got closer while casting both a notice-me-not and a silencing charm on himself. He found Evans and Alecea with a younger blonde girl, the former standing a few metres away. Tom decided to lean against the furthest wall and watch how it turned out.

It was boring.

At least Evans was moving now. Though to where, Tom couldn’t figure out. There seemed to be no pattern to his wandering, yet he himself seemed entirely too familiar with it, like he’d grown up in these halls despite just having shown up. Now that Tom thinks about it, he hadn’t seen Evans over the break, nor during his last walk through the castle before the Welcome Feast. It seemed the boy had really just shown up at the last possible second. Maybe he was a late bloomer so the Hogwarts Letter system didn’t register him at eleven?

No, Lestrange had said the boy was a Half-Blood, so he’d have grown up around magic anyways. 

Whatever, that was a mystery he could solve later. Right now he needed to make sure he didn’t lose Hadrian in all of the secret passages the boy kept finding. Seriously, in all his years Tom had only found five, how was the boy stumbling upon these?

Something told him the boy knew the castle in a way he shouldn’t be able to. 

Just as Tom felt a sense of unease form in his gut, they came upon one of the few alcoves Tom knew of. He carefully pressed the stone pressure point and reached to grab Evans’ wrist. He pulled the boy into the narrow space and felt as the notice-me-not melted away from his skin. He quickly cancelled the silencing charm, and pinned the boy to the wall. The boy began to mutter something, so Tom politely told him to shut up. When the boy continued to question him, he huffed and waved his hand in a wandless display of a silencing charm. He wanted to show off, sue him.

He smirked and entered the boy’s mind as smoothly as he could- it really was an exercise entering this one’s mind, it made him forget how legilimency had to be trained like a muscle. “What, thought you’d get away with violating me?”

The thought floated through his mind, No, just thought you’d be more of an exhibitionist . He held back a snort, now wouldn’t that be fun? 

Evans pointed at his mouth, and Tom cancelled his charm, chuckling as he did. 

When Evans repeated, verbatim, what Tom had thought, a pang of panic shot down his spine. He immediately cut the connection between their minds, hoping nothing else had slipped out. He would have to practise on his knights, Tom couldn’t have any major secrets getting out because he’d gotten sloppy with his legilimency. Was the boy a secret legilimens? Impossible, there were no occlumency shields to speak of anywhere in his mind. So how was he able to hear Tom’s thoughts?

He decided to see if the boy would give him answers. “I didn’t project anything into your mind.”

“At least you’re admitting to half the problem,” was the response, along with an incredulous laugh. 

The nerve of this boy- before he could think about it, Tom shoved the boy into the wall behind him. He brought his arms up to cage the boy’s head, a slow heat curling in his gut. Perhaps he could fuck the audacity from him-?

Tom mentally shook his head, berating himself for thinking that way. “Listen, boy,” he began, pausing at the suppressed flinch that wrought through the boy’s body. Interesting… “Nobody gets away with insulting, or assaulting, me,” he spoke low into the boy’s ear. At the shuddered exhale, Tom knew there was potential. 

Suddenly he was being pushed back and there was a wand at his throat, again . Evans was retreating, but Tom didn’t feel inclined to stop him. He would get the chance to be near the boy again, rather soon as they had Defense at the end of the day. 

Arithmancy was normally a boring subject to Tom. He’d studied muggle maths since he was eleven, when Hogwarts didn’t provide a sufficient maths course. It was as if they wanted the wizarding world to remain stupid and ignorant- not that the muggles were much better; their schools were constantly understaffed and not given enough funds to raise the new generations. He’d borrowed (stolen) a few advanced maths textbooks from the public library when he’d gone back to the orphanage the summer after his first year. He’d mastered algebra, and made quick work of geometry. Calculus was another thing entirely- it had taken all of his summer before fourth year and he’d even worked his way through the textbook in the first term. 

That is to say, Tom had been way ahead of his peers in this particular class especially. He hadn’t realised arithmancy, and then advanced arithmancy, were offered in third and sixth year, respectively, when he’d begun this endeavour. Tom was never one to abandon a project halfway through, though, so he continued his studies even as he had to relearn basic algebra and help the purebloods around him stumble through the class. 

The only pureblood that wasn’t a complete imbecile at the class, and was tolerable, was a shy Ravenclaw, Daniel Uttlebe. The boy was quiet and rarely started interactions. In the last few years, the boy had grown into himself, but as self-conscious pubescent boys, the two found solace in the fact they were the top students. Tom had always sat at a desk with Uttlebe, either helping one another when the other got stuck. 

It was terribly convenient that it seemed his longtime sort of friend was close to his new subject of interest, his sudden hyperfixation. 

When he walked into the arithmancy classroom, he greeted the professor then found his usual spot. Once Uttlebe arrived, Tom waved him over. They got situated for the class, waited until the professor gave them instructions and practise problems to ‘get their brains back into shape’. Tom chose this moment to ask about Evans. 

“Uttlebe,” he started, getting an acknowledging hum in response as he worked through a problem. “You’re friends with Evans, yeah?”

At that, the boy’s hand paused in its ministrations, his head slowly coming up to look at Tom. “Yes. My group and I took him in, thought it might be nice for him to not have to do all the work of getting integrated. Why do you ask?” 

Tom attempted a silent, wandless Legilimens , but to no avail. The boy’s mental shields were exquisite, as most purebloods’ were. Tom pursed his lips, averting his eyes. Uttlebe got a glint in his eyes, a subtle smirk forming on his face. “I see, now.”

Alarm took over Tom’s face before he could school it. “What-” he coughed, gathering himself, “What, exactly, do you think you see?”

The boy merely smirked, wider this time, and turned back to his problems. If he was a snake, Tom wouldn’t hesitate to crucio the thoughts from the boy’s mind, but alas, he could not. Tom let out a frustrated huff of breath, deciding to work on his own problems. 

“You know, he seems to be quite fetched with you. Felicity was teasing him and he went as red as the Hogwarts Express.”

Tom fought to hold back another cough, it seemed his throat had decided it didn’t want to work at the moment. He gave a noncommittal hum, and decided to shove the thoughts he was having into a little box in the back of his head to examine later (never). 

The two boys spent the rest of class focused solely on maths. Evans was not brought up again, and Tom was totally not thinking about him the entire time, he was very extremely focused on the class. Definitely.

Tom, as always for Defence, was the first to arrive. He chatted with Merryweather for several minutes as the students trickled in, most coming from their previous arithmancy class. 

“I heard there was a new student?” She asked him.

“Yes, were you not there for his sorting, professor?” He gave her a slight smirk, to which she rolled her eyes.

“I confess myself not paying attention throughout the sorting last night. I think I’m going to pair, you said it was a he? Well I will pair the two of you together so I can gauge where he is at. Apparently,” she began, ever the gossip, “he was homeschooled until now. Can you believe that?”

Tom gave a noncommittal hum- homeschooled? - and nodded. “I find it rather peculiar myself.”

“Yes, well, anyways, did you see the article in the Defense column on different ways the Expelliarmus could be used?”

They discussed their opinions while waiting for the stragglers. Once everyone had arrived Merryweather called for their attention. 

Seeing the indignant look upon the boy’s face when Merryweather told him they’d be partners- and why they’d be partners- was well worth the knowing look Uttlebe sent his way. Tom pretended not to notice; he himself was pleasantly surprised by his professor’s analysis of the boy’s aura.

After an explanation of how class would play out, everyone split up.

“We meet again,” was the first thing he said to Evans, giving him a once over. 

The boy had the gall to ignore him.

Tom silently fumed, but complied with the instructions to create the barriers. As soon as Merryweather gave the okay, Evans fired a hex right at his flank. And thus, the duel began.

They sent increasingly difficult spells to one another, a Bombarda narrowly avoided by Tom. When Hadrian casted non-verbal spells, Tom found himself a rather bit wonderstruck, causing him to be hit in the chest by a tongue-tying jinx. No matter, he, too, could cast non-verbally. 

Tom was getting frustrated. He couldn’t seem to get a single spell past Hadrian’s defence, let alone try to disarm the boy. He did have one trick up his sleeve, though: he was a Parselmouth. 

With that thought, he cast ‘ Serpensortia ’ and was delighted to note a striking boomslang had appeared. It was a bit disoriented, that is until Tom told it to scare the boy. He did tell it not to bite, though; Merryweather would never forgive him if he killed the new student on his first day (nevermind the fact that something tight seemed to wrap around his ribs at the thought of Hadrian dying by his hand- and wasn’t that a surprise?).

Suddenly a white streak was coming at his face, too fast for Tom to block or dodge. It sunk into his cheek, and Tom was dumbstruck. Anyone else would have been petrified in fear of the highly venomous snake headed towards them, but no, not Evans. Evans decided to use his own distraction against him. Suddenly a tingly feeling went through his jaw, caressing each tooth, before an excruciating pain seemed to break his front teeth. His focus became foggy, an odd sensation now filling his mouth, like Novocain had spread to his two front teeth, and he belatedly realised exactly what the boy had cast at him. Dread filled his stomach as he felt the tips of his teeth touch his chin. 

Distantly, he registered the snake complaining about not getting to bite her prey. Then a new, deeper hiss joined in, causing the fog in Tom’s mind to clear for a moment. The voice was beautiful, smooth and silky in a way most snakes’ were not, a slight drawing-out of certain ‘ sss ’s.

Tom instinctively knew it was Hadrian. 

Then Merryweather was in front of him and tutting and waving her wand frantically, applying the counter-curse as well as a common filing spell he saw the girls use frequently for their nails to get his teeth back to how they should be.

Hadrian- er, Evans, had vanished the snake to who-knows-where and Merryweather called for the end of class. 

Tom was still in a bit of a daze as the professor reprimanded him for his snake. When it was Hadrian’s turn, he seemed to be holding back a smile, keeping his head down so as to not alert the professor to his battle against his grin. Tom continued to stare at the boy through the praise, and followed him as they retrieved their things and walked to their respective dorms.  They were silent as they walked, allowing Tom’s mind to clear up. 

Evans had beaten him in a duel.

Nobody had done that since his first year. He thought he should be furious, embarrassed. But no, he was feeling a complex tangle of emotions, none of them negative. The most prominent one had to be awe. Awe for the boy next to him, for his magical prowess, for his ability to upend Tom’s entire world. Hadrian Evans was Pandora’s box, and Tom was Pandora. The temptation to split this boy open and unveil all of his dark parts, to strip him bare of his protections and leave him vulnerable with hope being the only part of him left. Hope for safety, hope for a home, hope for Tom . Then Tom would swoop in as the saviour, as the haven the boy would so desperately need. 

Tom shook himself from his musings, seeing that they were to part in a moment. He didn’t want to let the boy go, something drew Tom to him. It was as confusing as it was intoxicating. 

“Good job today,” he blurted. He turned his head away so Hadrian couldn’t see the flush that was no doubt high on his own cheeks. 

“Er… thanks?” 

With his dignity still (somewhat) intact, Tom left Hadrian standing in the hall and went down to the dungeons to work on assignments. He would ponder why he was so obsessed with the boy after dinner, or perhaps the day after, or this weekend, or never. 

Yes, that sounded good. He nodded to himself before he spoke the password to the Slytherin common room and entered his den of snakes.

Chapter Text

Upon realising that he was back in his own body (mostly), Harry picked up his wand to cancel the alarm. He trudged over to his trunk and changed out of his sweat-damp clothes. Why must I always have such vivid dreams? He thought to himself. 

He entered the bathroom and splashed cold water onto his face, bracing his hands on the sink’s ledge. He didn’t want to look at himself yet, he knew what he looked like after a nightmare. Was it even a nightmare? It had seemed too real, too unfamiliar yet familiar for his subconscious to be able to imagine. Really, how could he even begin to imagine Death? Who was he to assume he knew what such a being looked like? 

Sure, he’d died at least once, but he hadn’t met anybody, or any thing for that matter, that he hadn’t already known. Besides, if he thought about it, the being in his dream had referenced him dying twice. Harry was the Boy-Who- Lived , not the boy who died then came back again (that the public knows of). So it had to be a figment of his imagination, even if the thought itself set him on edge, like he was back in that tent, just waiting for the snatchers to find them. 

Harry shook his head to expel his thoughts. Whatever happened would happen, and Harry couldn't help that. He would see what happened later, for now he had to get to dinner. At that thought, his stomach let out a gurgle and a familiar hunger pang jolted him back to reality. 

“Alright, let’s get going then.”

Harry was early. It had just hit seven, and only himself and Lena sat together. They made small talk, asking about their afternoon classes. Just as he was about to ask after their friends, Marie plopped herself down, looking rather irritated. Harry glanced at Lena, who’d also sent him a questioning look. She nodded her head.

“What’s up Marie? You’re showing more emotion than I've seen from you all last year.”

Marie merely huffed, crossing her arms. “Stupid professor Longbottom and his stupid Sneezewort.”

Lena said something in response, but Harry was thrown into his memories of his own time’s Longbottom. 

Neville. When the boy had slain Nagini, it gave Harry the courage to keep fighting, to continue with his plight against Voldemort. He was feeling choked up suddenly, a stinging sensation in the backs of his eyes. He had Neville to thank for his success. And to think he'd only ever given him the time of day whenever Ron had a jealousy fit.

He looked up and around, sight landing on the couple walking into the Hall. The incredibly disheveled couple walking into the hall. Harry couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing and immediately hid his face in his elbows, trying to control his peals of laughter, somber thoughts left for a later time.

“There you two are!” Lena said, well, shouted really, “Five minutes late, and what is the excuse this time? Not that you need to make one up,” she added, eyeing the two as they sat down, Danny helping Luci down. 

Marie giggled into her hand, “Of course the first few free hours they get would be snogging the daylights out of each other.”

Harry felt his own cheeks grow hot at the comment, the couple protesting halfheartedly. 

“Jeez, Marie, you’re gonna scare Harry here off,” Luci said, gesturing to him.

Harry chuckled, and replied with “I don’t scare that easily. Besides, how do you know if I don’t have my own secret affairs?” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively. 

“Ooh! The baby eagle’s showing his true colours now,” Danny chuckled, reaching for the breadbasket.

“So, let’s say you are having secret affairs. With whom would these sexy rendezvous be?” She delicately sliced the bit of chicken on her plate, giving Harry an overly innocent look. “It wouldn’t happen to be the king of Slytherin, no?”

Harry’s face was definitely red now. The image of Tom caging Harry in and peppering kisses down his throat rudely entered his mind, trying to take image and run. “No!” He groaned and tried to free his mind of the scenes playing out in his head now. “Definitely not. Never in a million years!”

She gave him a knowing look, but shrugged and continued to tease the couple across from them. 

Dinner went by and as Harry was getting ready for bed in his dorm, Danny decided to upend his worldview. 

“You know, Riddle was asking about you in arithmancy. I think he likes you, and he’s obviously getting obsessed.”

Harry’s present brain had blanked out, static ringing in his ears much like how Aunt Petunia’s old telly used to. He distantly registered Danny chuckling then muttering something else, but he didn’t catch it. 

Riddle liked him? But why? Slytherins always had an ulterior motive, there had to be some sort of reason to this. Probably wanting to humiliate him or something malicious like that. Well… Tom wasn’t that immature.  Actually, if he were to compare, Harry was loads more immature than Tom was. In fact there was no comparison, especially if Harry was thinking something childish like humiliating him through a silly crush. That doesn’t even make any sense! Even with that thought, though, he couldn’t help the niggling of suspicion that was there in the back of his head. 

He wandered into the bathroom to brush his teeth when he realized he hadn’t even put on his shirt. He walked back out to grab it.

“Shite! What the hell happened to you, mate?” Danny exclaimed, gesturing to Harry’s person. 

He looked down, realizing most of his scars were on display. “Oh…” he wracked his head for an excuse but he was blanking. “Uh… my life has been a bit rough,” he forced a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous tic. 

Danny scoffed, “That’s the understatement of the century. Bloody hell mate, are those words ?” Danny took a step towards Harry, but Harry didn’t feel like having the whole yeah, my defense teacher, a ministry-sanctioned official, decided to pass her time here by torturing me with an illegal blood quill, but I’m good, don’t worry! conversation.

He grabbed his night shirt (long-sleeved) and scurried back into the bathroom. He slammed the door, accidentally, leaning against it and calming his breath. He didn't think Danny was trying to be offensive or rude, but Harry couldn’t tell his brain that when it was in the midst of a fight or flight response. 

He went through his nightly routine (mussing his hair, brushing his teeth, splashing some water on his face, breathing) and when he came back out the curtains to the other bed were drawn, allowing Harry his privacy. 

It was dark. 

That’s all that went through his mind as Harry tried to look around. Maybe it’s another visit with this ‘Death’. 

He heard a familiar dark chuckle and his blood turned to ice. No, impossible.

Now there was clearly a cloth covering his eyes. He tried to get his arms to take it off, but they were stuck, numb, like they weren’t connected to his body anymore. 

Suddenly the cloth was ripped from his face, revealing a familiar corridor. Doors ran up and down the walls, all the same with nothing to tell what resided within. Candles illuminated only so far, making the place seem endless, an infinity he couldn’t get to the end of. He tried to look around himself, but his neck wasn’t listening to him. Just like his arms, they seemed disconnected from him. 

He tried the same with his legs, to no avail. None of his limbs were working, and Harry’s breath began to quicken. There was a scuttle near his right ear, Harry’s eyes straining to see if he could tell what it was. There was nothing there. 

He heard the sound again, but in front of him. There was nothing, no matter where he looked. A slithering sound filled his eardrums, making him shiver.

He looked up and there were ropes connecting him to the non-existent ceiling. That, too, was endless, a black hole waiting to swallow him whole. 

A gentle breath ghosted over his cheeks, causing Harry to go rigid and look in front of him. 

He was face to face with Voldemort. 

The glowing red orbs seemed to sear into his own, paralyzing what little he thought he could move. The man- thing? - cracked a smile, showing his razor-sharp teeth and forked tongue. He hissed incoherently, chuckling at whatever it was he’d said. 

Harry felt sweat run down his back, a shudder crawling its way up his spine. 

Voldemort swished his arm up, Harry’s own following the movement. He did the same with his other arm, Harry’s other again following. A sense of dread filled his stomach. 

Finally, I have control over you. You won’t be able to defy me any longer. He smiled and handed Harry a wand. He tried calling out, but his jaw wouldn’t move, not a sound coming out. It was as if he were petrified in everything but his eyes. In fact, he couldn’t breath, his chest was caved in.

That fact sent him into a panic, eyes swerving around, trying to see if there was any way out of this.

For your first time… yes, perhaps it shall be him . Suddenly Ron was sitting there, looking into Harry’s eyes and seeming… vacant. Like there was nobody there, only a husk of what the boy used to be. 

Voldemort swished his arm in a familiar movement, making sure Harry would be able to execute it. Then, before he could think, a C rucio slipped from his own lips, landing directly on Ron. The body was convulsing, shaking and screaming and foaming at the mouth. He couldn’t stop, and he couldn’t look away. Voldemort smirked, clapping slowly, then snapped his fingers and Harry stopped the curse. 

A warm up. We must be sure you are capable, of course . Ron’s slumped body was replaced with a confused, terrified Hermione. She saw Harry and started screaming for help. Harry had to stand there and watch, not able to move a muscle. A dawning look of horror crossed her face, understanding causing her to droop, head hanging in despair. 

A different, also familiar movement was practiced. Then the words went through his mouth, the green light shooting across the distance between the two, landing on Hermione. 

Harry opened his eyes, blinking. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t move, he was still under Voldemort’s control-

He shot up, running to the toilet to empty the contents of his stomach. 

Once he stopped heaving and acid wasn’t bubbling at the back of his throat, Harry slowly stood. He didn’t risk looking into the mirror, mechanically going to the sink to wash his mouth out. He tried to dry the water from his mouth, but the towel wasn’t soaking everything up. Confused, he dabbed again, until two identical droplets fell into the basin, immediately disappearing down the drain.

Oh. He was crying. That made more sense. 

He glanced up, catching his eye in the mirror. For a moment, he swore he saw a flash of red, but it was gone in a second. All he saw now was the dark circles that never seemed to go away, bloodshot eyes, streaks down his cheeks. It was pitiful, and Harry didn’t want to look at it anymore. 

He exited the bathroom, a dull lumos lighting his way. He went into his trunk and grabbed his cloak, deciding to take a stroll through the castle.

He wandered aimlessly through the corridors, walking slowly and running his fingers along the stone walls. Up some stairs, looking into random classrooms, he finally felt the panic and anxiety melt away, a serenity replacing it. 

As he walked up the set of stairs leading to the room of requirement, he heard quick footsteps. They were moving away from him, so, being the seemingly suicidal hero he was, Harry decided to follow the sound. Upon nearing them, the steps slowed, turning down a corridor that led to another set of hidden stairs. Harry could just make out the shape of a man. Realising they were using a notice-me-not charm, Harry moved his head so the form was in his peripheral vision, allowing him to make out the relative shape of the man. 

It was Tom- Riddle! Goddamnit.

The form, which had conveniently stopped to look at something, began moving again. Now that Harry saw through the charm it didn’t work on him anymore. Tricky bit of magic, that one; one never knew if somebody had seen through the charm. 

He followed the boy as he traversed the school. He stopped whenever the other stopped, ran when the other ran. It weirdly brought him back to his days stalking Draco Malfoy. Now that he thought about it, it was exactly like that- he was trying to see if Riddle was up to anything, he was trying to see if Malfoy was up to something (although he’d known at that time that Draco was up to something). They were both Slytherin ponces, but also infuriatingly attractive. He’d never actually had a crush on the Malfoy heir, but it had come damn near close in sixth year. Now Tom was on his radar, and the prat was as distracting as he was annoying. Despite that, Harry couldn’t help picturing what it would look like to have the boy on top of him. 

Before he could go down that train of thought, Tom began descending down to the dungeons. Harry diligently followed until the boy had gone through the entrance to the common room, not knowing what else to do. He sighed, and went back up the stairs to his dorm room. 

The week had gone by rather fast after that. The professors started assigning loads of homework, and Harry found himself using any free time he could get in order to finish the unholy number of essays he had to turn in (it was only three but still!).

Before he knew it, Sunday had arrived, and along with it, quidditch tryouts. The day prior was for Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tryouts, now it was time for the other two houses. Harry had gotten up early to practise on the broom he’d be using since it was only 1943 and the firebolt hadn’t been invented yet. Danny had told him about the spare brooms in the Ravenclaw locker rooms, claiming nobody would notice if he used one for the day. 

In the locker room, he found the closet the boy’d told him about. There were five extra brooms, each looking old as time. Harry grimaced but accepted his fate; he would just have to be better, try harder. 

Upon entering the pitch (in the player’s entrance, obviously ) he saw a few Slytherins warming up. And wasn’t that a sight to see? They were doing common muggle stretches, pulling their arms against their chests, bending over to touch their toes, and a few were doing partner stretches. He smirked internally, if only they knew muggles made those originally .

He set his equipment bag down (a tote bag he’d transfigured to look more like his old bag, empty of course because he hadn’t the chance to go to Diagon yet) off to the side, walking to the beginnings of the grass. He mounted the broom, immediately thanking his foresight to practice. The broom itself was in good shape, probably only a few years old. He’d grabbed the one that looked to be in the best condition, hoping it would feel somewhat alright. 

But it was still a completely different experience.

The broom needed more assistance in directions, not as sensitive as his old broom had been. The thing skewed a bit to the left, causing Harry to overcompensate at times. The speed was maybe half of his firebolt, surprising him the most. Maybe he could go to the library and mess with some speed charms. Or maybe make his own…

Harry shook his head, deciding to think on it later. He ascended, getting closer to the clouds. He swooped up and down a few times, getting a good feel for the power he would need in case he started plummeting to his death accidentally on purpose (he was an adrenaline junkie, yes, but at least he wasn’t a future sociopathic serial killer!). 

He climbed higher and higher, enjoying the feeling of being weightless. Once he could feel the beginnings of the clouds on his fingertips, he levelled out. Perhaps he could get some good speed if he had gravity on his side?

You’ll never know unless you try, he thought.

He pointed the broom down, gaining speed the more vertical he got. He had to use everything in his legs to not fall off the front, hooking the tops of his feet in the stirrups. He flattened himself on the shaft, like he was trying to become the broom via osmosis. 

The pitch was getting closer and closer, and as the speed increased he felt the broom getting unstable. It tried to straighten out again but Harry didn’t let it- he wanted to see the limit. 

He had to be going over 150 kilos per hour. He could feel his face getting wind burned, his eyes watering despite the glasses protecting them from the worst of it. 

He could see people in the stands now, just making out their figures so he decided to slow down. The broom seemed to relax as he lifted up, gradually slowing his descent. Once on the ground, he dismounted and headed to get breakfast. 

Tom was bored. He was really beyond bored, a bit annoyed because he got dragged to the merlin-damned Quidditch Pitch at 7 o’clock in the damned morning. He needed new friends (he only had the one, but who was counting?).

“Hey, I know that look. Stop plotting my demise.” A voice to his left said. Tom turned toward it, giving his friend a deceivingly blank look. She rolled her eyes.

Walburga Black, wife of Orion Black, was one of the few women he could stand. It’s not the fact they're women, it’s the incessant need to touch  and bat their lashes at him. Wally didn’t do that, she already had her partner and they were clearly in love, in their own twisted sort of way. 

He looked back to the players. It had been an hour, maybe two, already, and he was just waiting for them to make their final decisions. He had research to do, he’d finally been granted a permanent restricted-section pass, thanks to some light Imperius ing. It was terribly easy, he didn’t know why he hadn’t tried before- much easier than pleasing and catering to the professors. 

There were a few distant cheers, the captain (Orion) having announced the results. He stood with Wally, noticing the eagles entering the pitch as the snakes exited. He passingly wondered if Hadrian- Evans! Oh, sod it - would try out, when somebody knocked into him.

“Hey-!” He shouted as he lost his balance.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” 

Tom turned and came face-to-face with Alecia, the Ravenclaw half-blood. More importantly, one of Hadrian’s friends.

He made sure his face was neutral, “Quite alright. Accidents happen.” He stood and brushed his robes off (there was no need, he just needed something to do with his hands lest he reach for his wand). 

The girl gave him an inquisitive look, then bowed her head and rushed off to get a seat. That insolent little… Tom looked to the field when the girl shyly waved to somebody. He saw Hadrian standing there, waving at the girl, then turn back to the captain. 

Interesting. So the boy could fly as well; he wanted to see how this went.

He waved Wally’s curious look off, gesturing in the general direction of the grass-covered field. She nodded and went on her way to talk to her husband. Tom decided to stand in the shadow of the tower nearest him.

As he watched he realised the reason for the big desire for Quidditch players. Tom knew he was interested in any manner of sex, be it with a woman or a man, or even both, but this was obscene. He'd never paid attention before, as he was never interested in sports as a child, but goodness, those broom thighs were to die for.

He shook his head, no point in going down that rabbit hole. He looked for Hadrian among the crowd, but couldn’t find him. He looked through the few who were already up in the air but still couldn’t find him. He looked up, and saw the boy going up and down in waves in the sky, above all the others. He made it look like flying was as easy as breathing. 

Tom spent the next fifteen minutes observing the boy warm up, noticing he seemed to forget how the broom worked for a moment or two before adjusting. He saw him talking a few times, mostly to the broom itself. He felt his lips curl a bit at the display before he could stop himself. 

A whistle was blown, indicating the players to land and wait for instructions. There weren’t as many new recruits as there had been in Slytherin, which made sense seeing as it was the House for the research apt students, as opposed to the physically apt ones (Gryffindors). The boy landed amongst the others, then they all split into four sections, Hadrian joining the smallest of the groups. 

There were a few instructions and gestures, and the group the boy was in mounted their brooms. The captain gestured for them to get going, opening a chest of equipment. Suddenly something tiny and gold flew out, fast as light, and disappeared. Tom heard the captain shout this time, saying to wait five minutes. The whole time the boy seemed to be messing around, aloof to everything around him.

Five minutes later, when everybody was set up for their own trials, a whistle was blown and suddenly Hadrian was focused. He scanned the pitch with a preciseness Tom had yet to see from him since their duel. It went on like this, the boy moving his position every once in a while, until Tom noticed a slight change in his demeanour. It was subtle, he only noticed because he’d been staring (and had transfigured his eyes into those of an eagle, no biggie). 

Hadrian’s face took on a look of neutrality, the boy looking around himself, observing the others that had been in his group. Then he sharpened his focus again, and dropped. 

Well, he didn’t drop, per se, but he seemed to flatten himself to the broom, pointing the end right to the ground, making Tom’s heart palpitate for a moment. Tom looked to where the boy was heading, seeing the gold ball- the bitch? No, snitch- hovering in place. The other ones had noticed Hadrian’s sudden movement and blindly darted for him. They were going fast, though not too fast for his eyes to follow. 

Then the golden ball darted away, but Hadrian didn’t change his direction. No, the boy smirked, following the ball with his eyes and still plummeting to the original spot, causing Tom's heart to skip a beat. The others were gaining on him, Tom noticing Hadrian had slowed a bit, and looked confused. The ball wasn’t there, but they still pursued. They were getting closer and closer to the ground, looking like they were going to run straight into the ground.

Then Hadrian pulled sharply on the end of the handle, grazing the tips of his boots on the grass, and levelled out. The others weren’t so lucky, a few actually hitting the ground and one pulling up but losing control of her broom. Hadrian kept at it, though, following the golden ball, reaching for it a few times. The ball changed directions abruptly, but Hadrian (somehow) was quick enough to grasp it, then slowed down. He held his arm high above his head, grinning wildly. 

Tom realised he was blushing, and quickly straightened himself out. I want him to smile at me like that , he thought out of nowhere. He bristled at his own mind, chastising himself for thinking such a thing. 

He stood up straight and looked for Hadrian again, seeing him hovering in the air at the height of the stands. He was still grinning, doing flips and spirals and shouting out a few times. Then the boy straightened out again and looked into the stands, waving excitedly at his friend. Tom felt a pang of something strike through his chest, his stomach sinking a bit, until the boy looked in his direction and noticed Tom standing there. 

Tom made eye contact and smirked a bit, playing it off. Then the irksome boy went and gave him a grin, holding his arm up again. Tom’s cheeks heated, and he averted his eyes. He heard Hadrian laugh, causing his blush to spread to his neck. Merlin, what was wrong with him?

He looked up, seeing the boy was closer now. 

“Did you enjoy watching?” He smirked. Tom felt his stomach do several flips as he scrounged for something to say.

“I-”

“Evans! Get back down here, stop flirting!” The captain called.

Hadrian went beet red, shouting something indecipherable back, and gave Tom a nod before landing. 

Well then. That happened. 

Tom turned and staggered back to the castle. He didn’t register walking to his common room, nor the greetings his Knights sent him. He waved them off, heading straight to his bed. Perhaps he had a fever and was hallucinating. That was the only explanation for the friendliness Hadrian had shown him. 

Yes, he was sick, that was it. Even though he’d never been sick in life, this had to be it.

He didn’t know what to think if it had actually happened.

Chapter Text

All he could see was emerald. 

One second it was pitch black, the next Tom was staring into those eyes. Those merlin-damned eyes. Seriously, how were they even real?

The green got smaller, orbs turning into eyes, eyes into a face, face into a beautifully sculpted body kneeling before him.  

A smirk graced the face of the other as he lowered to the floor, kneeling before Tom. Finding himself suddenly aroused, Tom slid a hand into the man’s thick hair and licked his lips, anticipation causing his fingers to tingle. Suddenly they were naked, and with nothing covering his growing erection, the man looked Tom in the eyes and licked a stripe from his shaft to his tip. Tom groaned, encouraging the other to suckle him into his mouth, using his tongue in increasingly sinful ways. 

Tom tightened his grip on the man’s hair, tugging a bit. At the widening of his eyes and smirk once again plastered to the other’s face, Tom tugged harder, earning himself a whimper. The man shoved more of Tom’s cock into his mouth, slightly grazing his teeth along the frenulum. Tom’s hips bucked a bit, hitting the back of the man’s throat and making him gag a bit. He pulled off to mouth along the sides of Tom’s shaft, all while maintaining eye contact. 

The man got back to work, moving up and down now. Tom’s hips met the other’s lips as he descended, continuing for what seemed to be forever. A familiar heat dropped from his core, his balls tightening, a deep groan making its way out of his mouth just as he began to-

Tom sat straight up, disoriented and frustrated at the denied orgasm. 

Scratch that , he thought, noting the tacky feeling in his boxers, only unsatisfying.

He grumbled as he silently peeked out of his curtains, making sure none of his dorm mates were awake, walking to the attached bathroom the three in the room shared while pulling his shirt over his crotch. He cast a quick lumos and then a scourgify before vanishing his boxers and shirt and stepping into the lukewarm shower. 

Where had that come from? Tom hadn’t had such an embarrassing dream since fourth year, when he was just learning what the fuck it meant when his prick stood up. He braced an arm against the wall opposite the showerhead, water getting rid of any evidence that may have been missed by the cleaning spell. Come to think of it, he’d been having odd dreams since the beginning of the year. It wasn’t as if he’d hit puberty again- no, that would be mortifying to live through another time. Perhaps he was only pent up? It had happened before, and plenty of the student body were willing to sacrifice their time to ‘help’ the previous prefect out in prior years. 

Yes, that must be it. He was only pent up, he needed to get a bit of this energy out if he couldn’t cast as many crucio ’s as he'd normally been able to. 

Mind made up, he moved his hand to shut off the stream of water, drying himself with another. Checking the time, he realised it was around the time he’d needed to get up anyways; lady luck was on his side today, it seemed. 

Lady Luck was not, in fact, on his side today. 

He’d gone to breakfast after finishing a personal mission (searching family trees in the library) and had been immediately accosted the moment he sat down by Wally. She’d somehow sensed something was different about him despite his perfect outward appearance. 

Women. 

Then, Slughorn, the pompous whale, had decided to rope him into fetching some rather disgusting ingredients from the greenhouses (why, no, professor, I would not mind missing a core NEWT class to do your own chores for you, thanks for asking). He’d grumbled to himself the whole time, especially when the first year herbology class had taken up residence in the other half of the greenhouse to learn about mandrakes. The girls would not stop staring.

Lunch was somewhat better. Though, he was caught staring at a certain green-eyed boy. Now Wally really wouldn’t leave him alone. She put two and two together- she was always good at social puzzles- and came to some conclusion Tom was not, in fact, privy to. She just got The Gleam in her eyes, letting him know something was going to happen. 

He knew it’d be fruitless to ask what was going on in that head of hers, because if he did, then she would one: not tell him, and two: make some utter rubbish claims connecting Tom and Evans. 

(There was nothing happening there, nor would there ever be, if Tom got a say in it.)

Seeing Walburga Black cross from the Slytherin Table to the Ravenclaw Table after dinner began was a turn Tom was absolutely not expecting. Of course, he kept his outward appearance stoic so as to not seem affected, but his mind was travelling so fast he could hardly keep up thinking about what on earth his friend was doing over there. 

Not only did she go to the foreign table, but she sat with Evans, and even spoke with Evans’ friend group. Amicably. Tom didn’t know she could even do that.

Harry was confused. 

Walburga Black- Sirius’ mother - had decided to sit next to him on a random Tuesday. (Why was it always on a Tuesday? Why not a Friday, so he could have the weekend to recover?)

She seemed nice enough at first, but so did everyone when they wanted something. She was a Slytherin, of course she had an ulterior motive. Tom probably had something to do with this, maybe she was a spy, and was reporting back to him after the meal.

He glanced at the girl again, watching her speak with Danny and Luci. They seemed to know each other, though that’s a given considering how long they’d all been in school together. They seemed to trust her somewhat, and they seemed to not be suspicious of her presence at all. Which, in itself, befuddled Harry. 

In his time, students didn’t sit at tables that weren’t for their house, it was a fact of life and everybody (bar Luna, but Luna was special) followed it. So to see a Slytherin at the Ravenclaw Table was new, but for it to be seen as completely normal to his friends made him wonder how messed up the future was if kids couldn’t sit wherever they wanted without scrutiny or suspicion. 

Depressing train of thought aside, Harry was still unsure what to think of the situation, especially given she’s the only one he’s seen Tom alone with so far. 

He’d just have to watch.

A month had flown by, and it was nearing Samhain. Tom had another Knights meeting that night, but couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of being watched. It was like he had an extra shadow, but every time he looked behind himself it was gone. It was incredibly unnerving and Tom found himself trying to lose the being- whatever it was, because he knew his senses were never wrong- in the maze that was Hogwarts. If he wasn’t in such a time crunch then he’d wait to ambush the thing and ask how it was so good at concealing itself. 

Tom cast a quick tempus and realised he was five minutes late. He was on the sixth floor, so he only had to catch a flight of stairs up, but he worried about the being finding out about his meeting spot. 

He silently cursed and grumbled to himself as he picked up his pace and decided to just get to the meeting. The Knights were going to be pissy as it was with the new initiation, it wasn’t good to let that irritation fester. 

He paced up and down the corridor three times- and wasn’t that fun as a second year to find out you could summon an entire room merely by pacing and thinking?- and went through the door, forgetting all about the presence behind him when he saw what was going to be an unfair duel happening across his table. 

He cleared his throat and all noise ceased. He walked to the end of the long table, silently, daring anyone to speak out of turn. 

“Knights,” he began, “I assume that this is just a misunderstanding. Would anyone deign to explain to me what was just happening?”

He paused, allowing for the Knights to mull over the choice. Nobody spoke. 

“Pity. Yaxley!”

At the address, Yaxley stiffened and bowed from where he was, knowing better than to get close to his leader. 

“Explain to me why you were about to curse at one of my Inner Circle, while he had his back turned?” The only reason he didn’t have the man under a crucio right that second was because he did enjoy a bit of underhandedness now and then. 

“I can explain-”

“By all means, do go ahead.”

Tom watched as Yaxley took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then began talking. “You see, my lord, Black here thinks that the second chair to your left is his. It’s always been… mine…”

He trailed off as Tom’s face steeled. “Was I not clear, last meeting, when I said he was appointed to be in my Inner Circle? I do not care what ‘used to’ or ‘has been’, the moment I make a change it is to be enacted. Orion is now in that seat, you are now at the end.”

Yaxley slumped a bit, but Tom just turned and made his way to his chair.

“As we are all aware, Samhain is in two weeks. We will mark Orion and then proceed as normal. Are there any ritual requests?” 

Nott cleared his throat and raised his hand a bit, “I’d like to do a Health Ritual, my lord, to be sure I make it through my coming-of-age.” Nott had confided to Tom that he’d been scared for his coming-of-age, apparently there was a one in three chance of it going wrong and depleting the boy of all of his magic ability, rendering him nothing more than a squib.

Tom nodded, then looked around again. Samhain was only a lifting of the veil between life and death, so there weren’t too many dark rituals they could actually do, but there were some important ones that one could only do on the days of the veil. It’s why Tom was rather fond of these times, it was rumoured that one could speak with the dead if they had enough dark energy.

When there was only one other request, a Luck Ritual for the upcoming Arithmancy exam, Tom got the rest of the meeting under way. There wasn’t much from his side, but that’s why he held the meetings- he got all the little bits from the gossip mill to try and form something he could use against anyone who opposed him should the need arise. 

Harry was once again confused. 

Yes, he was stalking Tom Riddle like he had Draco Malfoy, but this time Harry knew there would be something to catch. Well, had historical evidence at least; after all, he had known that Malfoy had been up to Something. 

What confused him, though, was how Tom knew he was there. The man kept looking behind himself, shivering whenever Harry got too close. He'd even led him through many underground passages, attempting to throw Harry off. 

Good thing Harry’d been sneaking through these halls for what seemed like his entire life. 

(Harry didn’t count his time with the Dursleys as ‘life’, just a temporary hell to house him until actual Hell could be introduced- that is to say, Voldemort himself.)

When Tom had finally gone to the room of requirement, Harry had almost sighed in relief. When he’d left the door open in his haste to break up whatever was going on in the room, Harry couldn’t help but wonder if that would be all of his stored up luck for the year. (Potter Luck was no joke, after all, it had to be used wisely.)

What Harry found was a lot more, how would you say, tame (?). He’d been expecting the inverted KKK cloaks, the metal masks hiding peoples’ faces, and everybody grovelling on their knees to their ‘lord’. 

Instead, the students- knights, that’s what he’d called them - wore either their uniforms (all Slytherin accented) or leisure-wear. They had all been sitting around a long table, looking rather nonplussed about the whole situation. 

Harry only tightened the Cloak around his shoulders, taking comfort from the familiar weight. 

Then Tom talked about initiating Orion Black- Sirius’ dad! - into the group. And rituals. Wow, Harry was fucked. 

He waited around until the meeting ended, hoping to slip out with one of the cronies, but couldn’t manage to get the opening he needed without exposing himself. Eventually it was just Tom left, and the man was still seated, looking as relaxed as a dark lord could be. 

“I know you’re there,” Harry jumped, managed to refrain from yelping, but still fell against the wall behind him. Tom chuckled, deep and dark. “That only confirms it.” Tom brought a fist to his cheek and rested his head on top of it, looking like a model- Harry James Potter. What the actual fuck! No!

After Harry didn’t say or do anything, Tom sighed and slumped back into the high-backed chair. “I know you’re there, you know I know you’re there, why not come out? Are you afraid?” Tom was purposely egging him on, and it was starting to work. No, Harry wasn’t afraid;  not necessarily. “Perhaps I’ll just force you to reveal yourself.”

Harry only had time to suck in a breath and Tom was casting a Hominem Revelio , Harry absolutely sure his cover was blown. 

Nothing happened. 

Tom cast it three more times in different areas, despite knowing the general direction Harry was in. The man cursed, smacking down his wand onto the table in front of him.

Harry had never been more impressed at his own luck; usually, everything seemed to go against him. Maybe this was a sign of things changing for the better?

“Whatever, whomever you may be, I will find out. And when I do, I won’t hesitate to punish you.”

Harry almost did a spit-take, images Not Welcome Here consuming his immediate thoughts. Tom only stood up and exited the room, leaving a confused and flustered Harry Potter behind.

The next morning saw Harry conversing with Wally, someone he was beginning to see as a friend despite all odds. She was funny, understanding, and had a dry wit that always threw him for a loop. She was slowly becoming a part of his little group, and everybody seemed to be happy about it. 

He’d looked up at the Slytherin Table several times, this time making eye contact with Tom. Tom only lifted a brow, then Harry felt a caressing sensation along his conscience, followed by a soft ‘ I know it was you in there last night .’

Harry suddenly felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured on him, or rather like he’d dove head-first into the Black Lake in mid January. He tried not to give any outwardly reaction, lest he give the game away, only blinked and looked away, but only after sending a quirked brow of his own to the other. He distantly heard a loud chuckle, somehow just knowing it was Tom’s, as he rejoined the conversation. 

His friends were talking about the upcoming Hogsmeade visit after all, he had to know what their plans were. And if he would be able to get away without notice at some point to wander. And mourn. Mostly mourn.

Chapter Text

You could hear wings flapping and hoots across the forest as the group walked. The owls were being sent off with various packages and missions, crying out as they departed.  Harry was walking with his friends, just happy to be outside and in the peaceful environment. He took as many lungfuls of breath that he could, enough times to garner strange looks from the others. He would only laugh them off and keep walking. 

Once Hogsmeade was in sight and Harry was reassured it wasn't burned down or ruined, he tuned back into the conversation happening around him. 

“Merlin, you should have seen him. Nobody else gets the privilege to because they all sleep in so late, but the bedhead Tom sports is even worse than Hadrian’s!” Wally was walking with her eyes closed, opening them at the end of her sentence and throwing up her hands. “It was wonderful, really. He wasn’t fully awake yet so he almost walked out into the Hall with it. Honestly, I don’t know what he’d do without me.” She added with a playful eye roll.

Harry could not picture Tom Bloody Riddle, the posh twat, sporting bedhead of any degree, much less how his own hair looked sometimes. 

(He really tried to get the hang of it this year, but it seemed like the more he tried the worse the mess got.)

“Morgana, I would’ve killed to see that. He’s always so picture perfect, you forget he’s human.” Luci commented. 

Harry wholeheartedly agreed with that and let out a hum. He sometimes got lost in the perfection that was Tom Riddle, almost able to forget who the man would become.

“I bet Harry wishes he could’ve been the cause of it-”

“Danny!” Luci whacked Danny’s arm as he laughed, much to Harry’s embarrassment.

“Oh? Does the new kid like the Head Boy? That has got to be a trope in some wixen fiction.” Wally brought her hand to her chin as if pondering it, “Oh yes, I remember now. It was a steamy romance between a Transfer and a Prefect-”

“Guys stop,” Harry whined, covering his face with his hands. Okay, so maybe he was attracted to Tom, that didn’t mean he wanted to, you know, be with him. 

Marie giggled as Danny cooed at Harry’s red face, Wally chuckling with the others.

Harry took his hands away from his burning cheeks, looking at the others. Seeing them all preoccupied with laughing at his torture, he stormed off. He didn’t know where his feet were taking him, but he followed their lead, blocking out his friends’ calls and picking up speed until he was in a dead sprint. 

When the cool autumn air finally got to his lungs, he slowed to a stop and took in his surroundings. A familiar sight awaited him. 

It was a wintry morning, snow falling around all the students strolling through Hogsmeade. A redhead and a girl with crazed curls stood looking out, turning when the blonde boy began taunting them. Harry had been close enough to overhear the teasing, and decided to get retribution on his friends’ behalfs. In a true testament to his youth, Harry decided the best course of action was a snowball fight. Mind made up, he collected a good amount of fluff and shaped it while inching closer to the group. He aimed right for the git’s face, hitting him square in the nose. After a bit of scaring, the boys ran off.

A light giggle filled the air as the girl called out, “Harry!”

His breath hitched at the memory of Hermione’s voice. Merlin, he missed her. Ron, too, obviously, but Hermione had always stuck by Harry’s side. She never let her emotions or opinions get in the way of their friendship, trusting implicitly and wholly. She was the closest thing Harry could get to a sibling. 

A lump formed in his throat, a familiar sting behind his eyes. 

The shack sat innocently in the distance. Well, less of a shack now in time, more of an abandoned house. The passage from Hogwarts to the house had yet to be constructed (and the Whomping Willow was still growing), so Harry hadn’t even thought of the place. It was like a bludger to the face, the memories hitting him like they were fresh- they were - and choking him up. 

Severus Snape’s last moments fleeted before his eyes- there was blood everywhere . It was the last straw and a strangled noise left Harry’s throat, twin streaks flowing over his lashes. He fell to his knees onto the dirt path, not processing the pain that flared from the rough landing, and he curled into a ball. 

How could he be here, making friends, having fun, pining for a fucking madman-

It was all too much, and Harry finally had a moment to let it out. 

The boys around him were being rowdier than usual, the bitingly cold autumn air causing a feeling of invigoration to run through their bodies. Tom was getting fed up with it. The next time of of them let their filthy hands touch him-

He had his wand out and at the throat of the person who’d just tapped his shoulder. It was Orion.  The boy’s face had gone worryingly pale at wandpoint, letting out a sigh of relief when Tom re-holstered his wand. He sent the boy a raised brow. 

“Just,” Orion’s voice cracked the slightest bit, but he cleared his throat, “just wondered what you’re going to do during this visit?” It came out like a question, causing Tom to smirk internally. He loved seeing the way he could get to his Knights. 

Tom hummed, taking a moment to answer. “Perhaps stop by the book shop, there was a new shipment last week. Then stop by Honeydukes, get something warm.”

Orion nodded and, like a smart man, left Tom to his devices. 

Now alone in a lesser-used alleyway, Tom changed directions and headed to the book shop. He wanted to see if they had any books on spells that could hide oneself and their magical signature. He knew it had been Hadrian who tailed him the other night, the boy’s scent had followed him all the way to his meeting. He’d allowed him to observe the proceedings, planning on catching him red-handed after everyone had left. 

It had not gone to plan. 

Somehow- Tom still hadn’t figured it out and it irked him so- he’d evaded his detection spells. As far as he knew, there were no spells that would be able to evade Hominem Revelio , and invisibility cloaks, however rare, weren’t infallible to it either. His interest was piqued and he had to know now. 

Once he entered the threshold, Tom inquired about books on spells to hide one’s presence and self. He was led to a shelf labelled ‘Miscellaneous Magic’. He nodded his thanks and browsed, noting a few titles for if he couldn’t find exactly what he wanted. 

Then he saw it: a book titled ‘Hiding, Finding, and How To Evade It’ . He grabbed it and flipped to the table of contents. Perfect . 

He checked out- it was fifteen sickles and ten knuts, fairly cheap, one of the reasons Tom liked this particular shop- and went on his way. He stopped by the sweets shop and purchased a bar of chocolate to snack on later. 

Then he wandered. He didn’t get to leave the castle grounds often, only the several trips to the village throughout the year and then the summer holidays, so he tried to take in as much of the wilderness as he could. It was different from the forest near the orphanage, everything was more vivid and he could practically taste the magic in the air. If he got far enough into the forest, he could get close to intoxicated from it all, the ambient magic becoming close to sentient.

It was truly, well, magical. 

He felt his mouth twitch at his own musings, then he heard a wail from the direction he was headed. He considered turning around, it wasn’t really his business, but he found himself inexplicably drawn closer. The noises were irregular and got louder the more Tom followed along the trail.  Once he crested the hill, the noises became clearer and seemed to stray from the path a bit. Wails turned to cries and coughs, and Tom felt dread drop into his stomach. 

He did not sign up to comfort some heartbroken fourth year. 

He placed a disillusionment charm on himself and approached carefully, still curious but wary at the prospect of the crying. 

He was not expecting to see the Ravenclaw curled into himself, pounding his fist into the ground before him, and letting out heart wrenching sobs. 

As Tom walked closer- he still didn’t know why he was interfering- he heard words spilling from the boy’s mouth. He couldn’t make out what exactly he was saying, but he seemed to be saying that same thing over and over again. 

“ Why …?” 

Oh. So he was asking something over and over again. 

“It should’ve been me.” Hadrian was mumbling and still sobbing, but Tom was close enough now to hear the whispers escaping the ravenette. “I didn’t ask for this! Hermione… Sirius… Fuck, Fred-”

Hadrian cut himself off with another sickening cry out. The boy was completely lost in his mind, and Tom was worried he’d hurt himself. 

(Well, not worried , Tom didn’t worry. He had passing thoughts and slight concerns. No worries.)

He felt his feet carry him closer and closer until he was at the other’s back. He crouched down so he was balancing on his toes beside Hadrian and slowly held out a hand until it was hovering over the other’s shoulder. When the boy didn’t react, he tentatively placed it down, squeezing it the slightest bit. Still no reaction or acknowledgement that the boy knew he was there. 

Tom had no idea what he was doing, he’d never comforted somebody before, especially not when they were so deep in their own mind that they didn’t react to external happenings. He made a split second decision and took the boy’s chin into his other hand, ignoring the wetness he found there, until he could see his eyes. They stared out vacantly, unseeing. It was creepy, but Tom shook it off and refocused. 

With little effort on his part, he entered the boy’s mind. He was immediately met with a wall. Interestingly enough, not a shield, but a physical wall of memories. They were moving so fast and there were so many that there was no way in. He couldn’t pick out any single thought or memory without getting burned- no, not burned, the wall was just cold enough to make it feel like he was burning. Not knowing what else to do, he tried to send waves of calming energy into the tornado taking up the boy’s mind. 

Surprisingly enough, it seemed to distract the racing thoughts the slightest bit, enough to slow a fraction. Seeing this effect, he continued but with  bigger, more concentrated waves until the wall became a mere storm. He could venture into it, though it was still freezing. He tried to pick out a thought, finding that it was instead a memory. Without a thought, he opened it. 

A being that was more snake than man stood before him, red eyes glowing in the dim light. The body he was in was walking closer, into an opening with beings in large black cloaks and metal masks surrounding them. He came to a stop across from the being, who’d raised its wand and smiled sadistically. Before he knew what was happening, a whispered incantation escaped the thing’s lips and a green light came barreling straight for him. 

He was thrown out of the memory- no, it had to have been a dream, there’s no other explanation - and he found himself frozen in shock. Warily, he reached out and plucked another from the fray. 

A familiar set of doors greeted him, though the surrounding torches were all out and entire sections of the stone walls had been blown up or scorched. The doors were slightly ajar, and the body he was in again crept forward. 

Bodies everywhere. Cries and wails and shrieks pierced the atmosphere as loved ones surrounded the deceased. His body took it all in, zeroing in on a few specific people. A wave of grief, fear, determination, and guilt hit him suddenly. With that, he turned and began sprinting.

Once again ejected, Tom mulled over the snapshot he’d seen. He continued to pluck out thoughts and memories of what he hoped were dreams. 

Slowly a bigger picture was pieced together. 

Many instances of Hadrian in a tent with a girl, sometimes a ginger boy joining them; the snake-man- thing duelling him; a large, familiar manor permeated with screams as he and his friend were tortured; a fight in a room filled to the brim with crystal balls; a blonde boy laying in a puddle of red; cloaked figures in metal masks attacking him everywhere he went; a man bleeding out in his lap, whispering explanations and offering memories…

It was all sickening and cruel and confusing and Tom was scared for what the next one he plucked out would hold. 

It was a deep cavern, damp and dark. A large statue sat in the middle of the large chamber, a redheaded girl he’d seen in other memories lay on the ground, clutching a small black book. 

Then he saw himself. 

Memory Tom was speaking, and the body he was in was speaking as well, but he was too shocked to listen. Memory Tom looked like a ghost, but it was unmistakable: the person in front of him was a mirror image of himself. 

He tuned in just as Memory Tom hissed out an order in parseltongue, then his body was running. A screech, pained hissing, an old brown hat, a sword. Then he was climbing. Merlin, it was a big snake. 

Then he was stabbing the beast, a fang embedded in his arm. Blistering hot pain. Resigned whispers. A bird. Then they were flying. 

Tom was ejected once more. He plucked up the last memory racing around.

He walked through the halls of the castle, coming upon the familiar gargoyle statue. Then he was in the office it protected, searching for something. Then he was holding the Time-Turner. Then he watched it fall. 

This time, Tom was ejected wholly from the boy’s mind. It seemed he’d come out of his episode. 

Tom was still in shock, barely processing that the boy had him at wandpoint.

“Give me one good fucking reason I shouldn’t kill you right here, right now.”