OooOooOooOooO
The castle was old and decrepit. It had probably been that way for centuries, mused Draco.
Since before the locals moved in, at least.
Pale hands brushed aside another ragged curtain, and Draco continued down the formerly secret hall.
No wonder they're so afraid of this place. It's so dreary…
He pressed his long fingers against the leather-bound diary dwelling in his deep pockets.
It was the strangest thing, really. He'd followed a familiar voice up to a tower, where he found a small book bound in black leather clutched in the hands of a skeleton. The book had seemed alive somehow; it warmed up noticeably as soon as he touched it, and an energetic hum touched the edges of his subconscious, almost like it was trying to communicate with him. That hum grew stronger as he descended, as if it were trying to lead him somewhere.
So, he followed.
And that was how Draco had come across what was meant to be a secret passage- what was now just a misplaced hole in the wall- in the room that once belonged to the last prince of the Potter line.
The hum seemed to vanish after a peak in strength at that point, and Draco assumed that meant he had to enter. So enter he did.
That was ten minutes ago, according to his analogue watch.
The walls pressed in on him and the dark hallway seemed like it would last forever. Draco was beginning to wonder if he should turn back when the diary in his hand flared with a heat that almost burned. He winced and continued forward.
The passage opened up onto a large circular platform surrounded by a pool of dark water. At the head of it, across from where Draco stood, was a statue of a man with a long beard and a monkey-like facial structure. On either side of the entryway was a statue of a large man with a bushy beard.
And curled up at the foot of the statue of the long-bearded man, where there once stone hands- which had apparently turned to dust, and which might've once protected him- was a young boy who looked to be no older than seventeen. But unlike everything- everyone?- else he'd seen, to Draco, he looked perfectly alive. Like he was only sleeping.
The diary in his pocket warmed up again, and he felt the presence of someone next to him.
"Finally…" said a voice beside him.
Draco jumped and turned.
The man beside him was almost transparent, but Draco could make out his darker features. His eyes were some shade of blue, and his hair he guessed to have been dark brown. He could've sworn he'd seen him before, but he couldn't remember where…
"Who are you?" he asked abruptly, his voice alert.
The stranger smiled.
"I suppose I should've expected you not to know me. I," he bowed, "am Tom Marvolo Riddle, lord to the Riddle fortune and the final heir of Slytherin."
Draco nodded his comprehension, his face betraying his awe.
"Ah…I-I see…"
His grey eyes turned towards the boy at the statue. He didn't look dead from this angle, but it's been centuries. But…he had to know…
Under Tom's watch, Draco stepped closer to the statue. When he was a foot away, an intimidating voice boomed out around the chamber.
"NO HAND SHALL TOUCH HE UNDER THE PROTECTION OF SALAZAR SLYTHERIN!"
The voice echoed throughout the area, deafening in its volume. Draco cringed and rubbed his ears.
"Protective bugger…" he hissed softly.
Tom hovered behind him, looking bemused.
"This won't do at all…perhaps if I…" he trailed off and glided to stand before the boy.
"He is very much alive!" he called to Draco, who looked at him puzzled.
"That's great to know, but it won't help us any if we can't get him out of this creepy place."
Tom's expression turned into a smirk and he turned back to face the statue.
"To speak the tongue of ancients- Salazar Slytherin, heed thine heir and accept thy blood!"
Something in the room changed as the man hissed, though Draco didn't see anything different. It was just a feeling in the stagnant air.
"Bring thy charges to deliverance unto the protection of his kin, and let the weight fall unto those now fit to bear thine burdens!"
There was a certain stillness to the air, but Draco couldn't tell if it was relieving or threatening.
Tom turned back to him with a pleased smile and returned to speaking English.
"You can grab him now."
Hesitant, Draco cautiously stepped closer and waited for the voice to boom. When it didn't, he walked over with more confidence and gingerly lifted the sleeping boy into his arms. The light warmth of his skin and the faint breath brushing against his face as he placed the boy onto his back assured him that he was indeed alive.
He was light- very light, too light- enough to make Draco actually wonder just what had happened to him. But now wasn't the time to ask.
He had to rejoin his colleagues, and there was no doubt they'd be interested in this.
The blond slowly exited the chamber and Tom followed him closely.
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Draco returned to the main hall where the other members of his team were waiting. They'd agreed to reconvene at 5pm, whereupon they'd pack up and continue tomorrow.
It was currently 6.
"DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!"
Draco sighed. He knew Astoria would act like this. He also knew it was technically his fault.
"I got caught up in a secret passage," he said coolly, "but I found something- rather, someone- of great importance."
The woman was fuming, and Cedric, three years older than either of them, placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Easy does it. Who did you find, Malfoy?"
Draco grinned smugly and carefully slid his unconscious charge off his back.
Astoria grit her teeth.
"Bloody hell! Malfoy you insufferable git! In what way is a bloody corpse important!?"
Hermione, who'd wisely chosen to remain silent, stood up, her book snapping shut.
"Will you quiet down? Clearly, you don't realize exactly who that is. Look-" she opened the book to a particular page"-at this."
The three peered closer at the page.
"But…it can't be!" insisted Astoria, "He disappeared almost four hundred years ago!"
"It can," said Cedric, "but surely he can't be alive…"
"unless he's a fake. But that scar says otherwise."
"I suppose so. His hair, too. Historically, no Potter has ever had neat hair."
Hermione nodded.
"So, we're in agreement?"
Draco nodded.
"Yes. We've found the lost Potter heir, and he's somehow alive."
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"…"
It's so dark…
"…tter…ke….p…"
So cold…
"Po...ter…wake…"
Why?
I can't…not yet…
"Mister Potter- please wake up!"
Grey eyes. Blond hair.
I know you from somewhere…but…
Green eyes opened tiredly, removing any doubt.
"Who are you…?"
He was in a white room. Something was beeping beside him. Something foreign, but also familiar. He'd seen it while he was asleep.
There were two people beside him. A man with grey eyes and blond hair, and a woman with bushy brown curls.
"Oh! You're awake! I hadn't expected it to be so easy!"
He was still confused.
"What is your name? You remind me of someone…"
"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. And you are?"
Oh…a Malfoy…one of Abraxas's descendants, perhaps?
"I am Hadrian James Potter, heir to the Potter line and magical descendant of Godric Gryffindor and Ignotus Peverell."
He looked around once more.
"Mother and father…are they safe? I remember Voldemort…he…he came and stormed the castle, and-and they told me to hide, and…Tom said Salazar would protect me…but…I woke up."
He sounded so worried, so scared and confused, and Hermione could just tell that it was genuine.
"Harry- may I call you that?" he nodded.
"Harry…what year is it?"
"Is it not seventeen sixty-four?"
Draco and Hermione exchanged a nod.
"No…it isn't. It's two-thousand and nine."
Oddly enough, Harry didn't seem confused. He was more…solemn.
"I see…so…what I saw while asleep…it wasn't a dream…everyone I know…everyone I loved…"
Hermione frowned and put a hand to his shoulder.
"…I'm so sorry, Harry…"
He turned to face her.
"I'm sorry? I…I haven't caught your name, Lady…"
She tensed up.
"Oh my! I am sorry! I'm Hermione Granger, Your Highness!"
He smiled.
"None of that, Lady Hermione. Please, just call me Harry. And you, Lord Malfoy, I extend the same courtesy."
Hermione huffed.
"In that case, please, just call me 'Hermione'."
"Lords and Ladies hardly exist in this time, anyway," said Draco, "So I ask that you refer to me as either Malfoy or Draco, understand?"
"Of course Lo-Malfoy."
The blond smirked.
Hermione hummed thoughtfully before speaking again.
"Harry…? You said you woke up- but you made it sound like that's somehow a bad thing. Why is that?"
Harry frowned, and his tone grew serious.
"I wasn't supposed to wake up, Hermione. Not until Lord Voldemort's defeat. Because if I was awake, he'd be able to capture me and my light, and bring the world to darkness. Asleep, I would have been safe."
"But how?" pressed Hermione, "how did you know whoever he is wouldn't just find you by accident?"
"Tom promised to protect me. And Tom Marvolo Riddle never broke a promise."
Those words sounded naïve, but also somehow…certain.
Draco made a sound of recognition.
"'Tom Marvolo Riddle', did you say?"
At Harry's nod, he pulled out the diary.
"I found this a while before I found you, and a ghost came out of it. He said his name was 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'."
Harry smiled, relieved, but Draco was unsure why.
"Thank goodness! May I hold it?"
Draco handed him the diary and immediately missed its warmth, but quickly forgot about that.
As soon as Harry's fingers touched it, it sparked to life, and Tom came out. Draco noted he looked more solid than last time he'd seen him. He could see now that his eyes were actually a dark blue, and his hair a shade of brown so dark it could be mistaken for black. He could also see that yes, his skin was really pale.
Harry looked ready to cry.
"Tom! Thank God you're alright! I was so worried- my visions- I couldn't see you at all…" he shivered, and Tom pulled him into what looked sort of like a hug.
"It's okay, Harry. There's no need to worry. Sirius was with me, and He never found either of us. I'm so glad you're finally awake…."
Hermione discretely stood up and slipped out. Draco, suddenly feeling like he was intruding on an intimate moment, followed her lead.
"What happened while I was asleep?" asked Harry after a moment.
"Voldemort stormed the castle and entered the main hall a few minutes after I sent you off to hide," Tom began, "and tried to use Severus to find you. When he failed, he tried to use me instead, except Sirius had already taken me by then. What he thought was me was just a fake."
Tom perched himself on the edge of the white cot Harry was in.
"Voldemort sent his men to scour the castle for you. Pettigrew actually did find you, but because of the protective magic of Slytherin I'd placed around you, he couldn't touch you. He went to Voldemort to report, but the wolf killed him before he could. After very nearly setting everything on fire, Voldemort used his mind magic against the Longbottoms, and found out that you were sleeping, and that he could only take you when you woke up. Alice and Franklin lost their minds and died, and then Voldemort left."
He looked down, remembering.
"I'm not sure what happened after that. But I sense he's still out there, alive, just waiting. He probably already knows you're awake."
Harry frowned, worry gnawing at him.
"Then…we'll have to defeat him…somehow…"
Tom nodded and placed a cold hand on Harry's shoulder.
"We'll take care of him. And we're sure to succeed, since I'm here."