From this point on, depending on the point of view of the speaker, Harry will be called either Harry or Raphael. I have guidelines to when I call him which, but it's confusing even to me so I wont bother going into detail.
OMG! It's Tomtime! YAAAY!!! :D Tom-Harphael interaction this chapter :D
:Parsel:
'thinking'
Gargoyle 2
As Harry came to his senses, he found himself immersed in chilly water, ripe with vegetation. Now, Harry had only swum a few times before, the last of which being during the Triwizard Tournament during fourth year, so when a tough piece of seaweed managed to wrap itself around his foot, he found himself being dragged down into the dark depths below.
Harry was positive that his lungs were numb. He pulled and struggled against the firm grip of the seaweed attached to his right ankle, but to no avail. He was still weak from the ritual, and soon he could struggle no longer but only allow the bitter water to fill his lungs as he sunk to the bottom.
On the surface, Tom Riddle had been enjoying his free time curled up against a large cherry tree, dozing lightly with a book in hand. He never heard the splash as a green eyes teen fell from the sky and into the lake, very nearly splashing him with water. Hours passed before he woke, just as the sun began to set.
:Scius, how long was I asleep?: he hissed to the young water snake who he knew lived on the edge of the lake.
:It is not yet feeding time for the two leggers.: The snake responded.
:So I have time then. Have you heard anything interesting lately, my friend?: Many students would often spill their secrets by the lake, and sometimes, the information which was passed on to him by Scius could be very useful.
:Of course not. Nobody ever comes to the lake when you're here. Although…: The snake trailed off.
:Yes?: Tom prompted.
:A two legger fell in the lake while you were asleep. He's on the bottom, sleeping.: Tom's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Many times before he had been blamed for inflicting injuries which he had not been responsible for, and Dumbledore had always kept a watchful eye on him. If a student had drowned in the lake, while Tom was present no less, there was no doubt who the blame would go to.
Quickly stripping down to his boxers, Tom dived into the lake in one smooth motion. Years of swimming in the lake during the warmer spring months of the year had gotten him accustomed to the murky water, but nothing could shake off the chill of the winter.
:Show me where the two legger is.: Tom demanded. Scius eased himself into the lake and took off, gliding gracefully through the water. About three meters from the edge, she dived down, Tom following closely behind. At the very bottom, a young man lay still, pale as ice.
As quickly as he could, Tom rose up for a breath of air and got to work untangling the boy from the weeds which had wrapped themselves around him. Two more breaths later, Tom dragged the boy to the surface, holding him tightly by the arm.
:You know, Tom: Scius hissed, :It is probably not best for you to handle the two legger so roughly. He seems delicate.: Leveling a glare at the snake, yet loosening his grip anyway, Tom hefted the small body out of the water.
Tom lay a hand against the boy's throat, there was no pulse. A quick spell removed the water from the boy's lungs, but there was no spell to restart a heartbeat. He would have to do it the muggle way.
Tom covered the other's lips with his own, breathing air into the other's body, before raising his head and pressing his hands down against the other boy's chest in two quick pushes. His head went down again, and just as his lips hovered over the other's, brilliant emerald eyes snapped open and stared directly into his own red ones.
A moment passed where neither boy moved, and Harry's mind was going a mile a minute. Why in the world was Tom Riddle giving him CPR, and for that matter, why in the world did Tom Riddle exist?
"Good, you're alive." Tom schooled his face into an impassive mask as he rose, offering a hand to the other boy. Harry took the offered hand, pulling himself up easily.
"Yes, I suppose I am. From what I discerned, I have you to thank for that?" Tom glared at the boy.
"Tell nobody about… what I did. Who are you anyway? I know the faces of each student in this school, and you're not one of them." Harry chose to ignore that question, earning himself another glare from Riddle.
"Tempus"
5:08 PM
September 28th
1948
"Well? Are you going to answer my question?" Tom demanded, irritation creeping up on him.
"Oh, yes. I suppose—I suppose I am a transfer student." The emerald-eyed boy smiled cryptically and strode off towards the castle. It was only after the boy was out of sight that Tom realized that the boy had never resumed breathing.
'How could you have been so stupid? You're a Dreizehn now, you don't have to breathe anymore! Imagine what Lucifer would think, seeing you pass out like that.' Harry berated himself as he stalked through the crowded halls. As he glanced around, Harry realized that not much had changed from the Hogwarts of his time, save some small changes in the uniforms. The boys work dark slacks and a black vest barely visible under their robes, while the girls wore checkered skirts which reached passed their knees. In Harry's time, the skirts had been shorter, and the uniforms had often been disregarded in favor of a more comfortable pair of jeans under their robes.
Harry was brought out of his thoughts when a bony hand wrapped around his arm, squeezing him roughly. He whirled around to see a younger, graying Dumbledore staring back at him.
"Hello, my dear boy." Dumbledore's smiling face and cheerful attitude would have been deceiving, if not for the vice like grip of the hand still restraining his arm. "You are not a student here, may I ask why you are on Hogwarts grounds?" Harry easily shook free of the grasp, ignoring the strange look that flicked across Dumbledore's face.
"I was looking for the headmaster. I intend to transfer to this school, and I need to discuss the details of this with him." Dumbledore clapped his hands in glee. "I believe I'm a bit lost." He added to assure his safety.
"Well isn't that just wonderful! Come with me." Harry followed his future headmaster through the corridors. As they rounded the corner, the gargoyle statue which hid the headmaster's office came into sight. Upon seeing the pair, the gargoyle bowed, seemingly to Harry, and the passage opened.
"How strange." Dumbledore frowned. "It's never done that before." The man strode up the stairs, Harry following after. "The gargoyle must have been expecting you. For future references, and keep in mind that I'm only telling you this because you're a transfer student, the password is 'Dolphin'. Most students don't know this, so don't go spreading it around." They reached the door to the office, and Dumbledore quickly opened the door and hurried the boy in, not bothering, Harry noticed, to knock first.
"Hello, Albus. Who is this young boy that you have brought to me?" Harry's mind raced.
"My name is… Raphael Zuerst. A transfer student." Yes, his real name would work just fine. His only problem would be avoiding the notice of the Dreizehn.
Headmaster Dippet's eyes darkened. "And what country are you transferring from?"
"Germany." 'Homeland of the Dreizehn' Harry added to himself.
"Headmaster, we can't possibly allow a German student into Hogwarts!" Harry wished he could hit himself. He hadn't taken a course in Muggle history in years, but how could he have forgotten that World War II and the Holocaust had only ended a few years ago. Of course they would be suspicious of a German transfer student.
"My father was killed because the government found out that he was a wizard." Harry responded coldly, applauding himself on his acting skills. The headmaster sent a sympathetic look his way.
"See, Albus? He won't cause any trouble. Now, If you don't mind, I have to discuss the details of his transfer with him. I'm sure you have papers to grade." Dumbledore gave Harry a harsh stare, sending chills down his spine.
"I believe I do. Good day, headmaster." Dumbledore left without another word, and it was not until his footsteps were out of range of even Harry's enhanced hearing that the headmaster spoke again.
"Is there anything else you would like to say?" The headmaster asked. Harry weighed his options. For the Dreizehn, blood was a necessary form of nourishment until they reached full maturity, which usually took about a year. There was no way he could go around attacking normal students, not with Dumbledore already suspicious of him. Sighing, he resigned himself to his dismal fate.
"I'll need a secrecy vow to answer that." The man nodded.
"I'll swear the vow. On my magic, I swear that I will never reveal any of the information which is revealed in this room." A light glow surrounded the two, disappearing as quickly as it had come.
"I'm a…vampire, and I need an adequate source of food."
"That's not a problem, child. We have housed vampires before, and have a ready supply of blood thirst suppressing potions on hand." Harry winced. The Dreizehn could only survive off of pure human blood. Thirst potions and animal blood would not hurt him, but they would make him feel rather sick.
"I'm allergic." He responded. The headmaster frowned.
"I suppose we could get you some animal—" Harry quickly cut him off.
"It makes me sick." Dippet glared.
"I suppose I have no choice."
"What?"
Dippet opened his mouth, releasing an unearthly song which reverberated around the room, almost visible in its sheer power. Harry immediately recognized it to be the Eleventh Melody of the Song of the Dreizehn. It was a song imprinted in the very soul of each Dreizehn, which could control any of the children of the Drei, namely, the vampires. The song had an intense lure which no Dreizehn could resist. After mere seconds, Harry gave in and added his own voice to the song, the First Melody.
"Impossible.." Dippet whispered, his eyes widening. "Lord Lucifer?" Harry's eyes glowed.
"He is my father."
"But Lucifer has not lost his immortality. How can you be his son?" Harry shot the headmaster an unnerving smile.
"I was somehow sent to the past on the day of my changing. I fell into the lake and collapsed from exhaustion. I have not finished my schooling as of yet, and I believe that Hogwarts would be the ideal place to stay at, as I must research what sent me here, and how I could get home." Dippet gave a nod of approval at the boy's intellect.
"I am afraid that I do not know the reason you were sent to the past, but I will inform our librarian, Mrs. Traehart, that you are allowed access to the books in the Restricted Section for research purposes. As for now, welcome to Hogwarts, young Lord." Harry nodded.
"So you will permit me to attend? What about my blood?" Dippet now understood the boy's request. Dreizehn had to drink a certain amount of blood until they matured, and as he remembered from his own experience, anything other than pure human blood would make the boy sick.
"I cannot allow you to drink from our students or staff without consent." Harry opened his mouth to protest, only to be cut off by Dippet. "However, if somebody willingly offers you their blood, you may drink from them."
"I suppose that is acceptable." Harry replied, standing to leave. As his hand touched the decorated brass doorknob, he paused, turning to look Dippet directly in the eye. "Out of mere curiosity, what is your true name?"
"Michael Elft." Harry nodded and swung the door open. Michael watched as Raphael Zuerst disappeared down the stairs, seemingly fading into the shadows which each Drei controlled. 'How is it possible' he wondered, 'for thirteen Drei to be alive at once?' Little did he know, Harry was wondering the same exact thing.
The rest of the day, whispered rumors of a transfer student had worn Tom's patience thin. As a result, Tom decided to avoid dinner altogether, instead heading towards the kitchens. To both his delight and his frustration, he stepped through the portrait which guarded the kitchen only to find the topic of the entire school's interest sitting on a spindly stool near the fire, sipping tea.
"Wouldn't it make more sense to wait for dinner?" Tom jumped. The boy hadn't even turned around. 'How did he know I was behind him?' he wondered.
"I wasn't planning on attending." Tom replied. The boy twisted to face him, a slightly wicked look dancing in his bright emerald eyes.
"In that case, would you care to join me?" Tom nodded, restraining his surprise when another stool popped into existence beside the boy. Tom walked over and gingerly took a seat, being careful to keep a suspicious eye on the other boy, who, it appeared, had remembered to start breathing again.
"Fishy," The boy called to a nearby house elf, who Tom noted proudly wore a novelty fish hat atop its head. "Could you get something hot for Tom here?" Tom frowned. 'How did he learn my name?' The elf was watching him nervously.
"Just a cup of Earl Grey, if you could." The house elf squeaked. Tom Riddle visited the kitchens often, and although she had never served him before, he was not known for his patience.
"Right away Master Riddle!" Fishy scrambled away, returning with a delicate porcelain cup in hand, two other elves carrying an ornate tower of finger sandwiches and cakes between them.
"They must trust you." The boy commented as Tom took the cup, balancing it between his hands. He raised one eyebrow in an aristocratic arch. "They gave me Styrofoam." He lifted his cup slightly, showing Tom the white disposable cup. Tom smirked.
"They know I won't accept anything less than the best." For some reason, this caused the other boy's lips to twitch up in resemblance of a smile, as if remembering something familiar.
"I see."
Absently stirring his tea, Tom glanced at the other boy. A lock of glossy black hair fell loose from his long braid, covering his face. Almost habitually, he pushed the stray hairs behind his ear, tugging slightly on his right earlobe. The amber glow of the tea reflected in his emerald eyes, rendering them an almost jade color, as he stared, captivated, into its depth.
"You're looking much less waterlogged." Tom joked in an attempt to break the silence that had descended. "I don't think I got your name earlier. Actually, I don't think I told you mine, either. How did you know it?" Tom felt oddly triumphant as a spark of amusement flashed through the boy's eyes.
"I have my ways" he said, his voice as light and smooth as it had been before, and yet somehow richer with amusement. "My name is Raphael Zuerst."
"Tom Riddle, but you knew that already, right?" The boy, Raphael, smirked.
"But of course." He glanced at the clock which hung above the mantel. "Would you mind accompanying me to the Great Hall? I'm to make my grand entrance tonight, and without a guide, I might just get lost." Tom had an odd feeling that the boy wouldn't have gotten lost at all.
"I would be honored." He replied, slipping off his stool and holding out a single elegant hand to the amused boy beside him.
YAY! I researched Styrofoam, and it DID exist in '48 so THERE =] Dunno if they used it for cups yet though… they probably did :D
I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
