Chapter Seven
Draco did as he was commanded. The next morning, he and Harry went to the Gryffindor Table where Ron was sitting with his brothers. "Ron!" Harry said happily, smiling at his friend.
The Weasley turned around to see Harry coming up to him with Malfoy. "Hello Harry… what are you doing here?" Ron asked questionably. Harry just smiled and looked at Draco, "Remember our promise?" he said. Draco nodded. "Well… go on then, or you're not eating."
Draco shot Harry a lethal stare, but the boy just smiled innocently. "You want to eat, right? Look?" He pointed to the Slytherin table where the others were eating. Tom was sitting next to two empty seats who had plates full of food waiting. "Tom was kind enough to get us our breakfast Draco," Harry continued. "But you can't have a bite until…" He looked at Ron and smiled.
Gritting his teeth, Malfoy gave both Harry and Ron another glare before turning around and leaving. Harry sighed and shook his head. "I thought I had him last night," he said.
"Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do Harry, but—"
"No. I will turn Draco into a Good Boy. You'll see!" Harry said stubbornly. He looked up at the Slytherin Table and shook his head. Tom frowned, but nodded. "I don't care if Draco needs to starve a bit, I won't have him being mean to my friend!"
Ron frowned. "You don't have to do all this for me," he muttered, but Harry did not listen to him as he stomped back to Slytherin Table. "No food!" he yelled at Draco, and pulled his plate away from the blonde, placing it in front of Tom. "You are just such a jerk, you know?" he said angrily.
"Me? Me? I'm the jerk? I'm not the one, Potter, forcing you to apologize just to eat," Draco snarled.
"It's just two words! Two bloody words! 'I'm Sorry' how hard can that be?" Harry demanded.
"Shut up, both of you," Tom said, looking extremely disappointed at both of them. "Harry. Give Draco back his plate."
"But—"
"Now, little snake," Tom said.
Grumbling like a small child who was just disciplined by his father, Harry took Draco's plate and returned it in front of Draco. "Now apologize."
"But—"
"Apologize Harry Potter, you're not being nice right now," Tom said.
Harry crossed his arms across his chest and said, "Sorry Draco."
"Good. Now Draco, apologize to Harry," Tom said calmly.
"Sorry Potter," Draco said.
"Good," Tom smiled. "Now, Draco, what was Harry trying to make you do? Harry, please don't interrupt."
"He wanted me to apologize to Weasley for no good reason," Draco said.
"I see… and when did he ask you to do this?"
Draco's cheeks started to burn. "Last night. …In my bed. He kissed my cheek."
"I see…" Tom said slowly. "And you want Harry to kiss your cheek again?" Draco nodded. "Well, you need to learn manners for that, Draco, however the way Harry went about doing that is completely wrong. But don't worry, that's why I'm here." He gives Draco a sly smile. "You will apologize to Ron Weasley for being mean to him and insulting his family, Draco, however, I will not force you to do it. You'll do it under your own free will. Is that agreeable?"
"Yeah, it is," Draco said, nodding.
"Good," Tom said. "Until then, however, you are not allowed to touch Harry, or even be next to him." He suddenly stood up, and motioned Harry to move to the side, which he did, allowing Tom to wedge himself between the blonde and brunet. He looked at Harry, "As for you, Harry, I will not kiss you tonight."
Harry's eyes went wide, "But Tom—fine…" He sighed and looked down at his food. Tom patted his back sympathetically.
"You can't force people to change overnight, little snake," Tom said to Harry in a soft, sweet voice. "It takes time, don't you remember how long it took me to change you?"
"I just want Draco to be a Good Boy," Harry said sadly, his lips barely moving. Tom sighed and shook his head. "I know little snake, but these things take time, like I said, you can't teach someone manners and expect him to behave overnight!" Harry's frown just deepened.
"I'm sorry for being stupid," Harry said.
"No, don't," Tom said. "Harry, you are not allowed to call yourself stupid. Look at me." Harry did. "Let's put all this behind us, forget about your mistake for now, and just focus on our first class, alright?"
Harry sniffled but nodded. "Good," Tom smiled. Harry cleaned his face and a second later it looked as if he wasn't on the verged of crying at all. Professor Snape, along with the other Heads of Houses, moved from the staff table. They handed out the students' schedules, and again Harry had the distinct feeling that Snape did not like him at all as he thrust the schedule in Harry's hands, not even looking at the boy. Confused, Harry just unrolled his schedule to see what his first class was.
Hogwarts, as it turned out, was bigger than either Harry or Tom thought. There was a hundred and forty-two staircases; wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. There were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that wouldn't really be doors at all, but solid walls just pretending to be it. It was very hard to remember where everything is.
Then, when Harry and Tom finally found their classrooms, there were the lessons themselves. They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movement of planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.
Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost, Professor Binns, who droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. This was the only class that Harry had trouble staying awake and was dozing near the end, along with Ron who they shared the class with.
Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first lessons, he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.
Professor McGonagall was again different. From the moment she gave Harry and Tom their letters, Harry guessed that she was not a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
Then she turned her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be able to do that kind of magic in a long time. After taking a series of complicated notes that made Harry's head spin, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match. Ron leaned towards Harry, who noticed and was gladden to see that the Gryffindors and Slytherins shared a lot of classes, and said, "She's a bossy one, that one."
Another class that the Gryffindors and Slytherins shared was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Everyone seemed to be looking forward for it, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly how Quirrell fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and Ron told Harry that the twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.
Harry was both shocked, and a little scared, when, at the end of their first lesson, Professor Quirrell said, "M-M-Mr. R-Riddle… s-st-stay a-after class. …puh-please."
"Just wait for me outside, alright little snake?" Tom asked Harry, who nodded. When class was over, Tom stayed in his seat while everyone else left. When the door closed behind the final student, Tom asked, "Is there anything I can help you with, Professor?"
"Y-yes…" Professor Quirrell said. Tom raised an eyebrow as the man seemed to pale in front of him drastically. Throughout the lesson, he seemed to be doing his best to avoid Tom, not even looking at the boy when he did roll call, or when Tom raised his hand. "I…I want to talk to you…"
"About what, Professor?" Tom asked. He did not leave his seat as Professor Quirrell stared at him, growing paler by the second. He thought he heard a small, light breeze of wind, and the next thing, Quirrell stepped up and said, "W-What d-d-d-do you r-r-remember a-a-about the t-thunderstorm?"
That got Tom's interest and curiosity. How would Quirrell know about that? It's impossible, only he and Harry knew about the storm that split himself in two. Staring at Quirrell, the boy frowned and thought to play dumb. "Thunderstorm? I'm sorry Professor, but thunderstorms happen frequently, it would help if you be more specific."
"Do not mess with me!" Quirrell shouted, though his voice was light and breaking. "Y-You are Tom Riddle, no?"
"Yes Professor, that is my name," Tom said politely.
"Master are you sure—" Quirrell asked, looking into the air. There was another breeze. Tom frowned, was Quirrell a madman or something? There was another breeze that almost sounded like syllables. "Master, you are not strong enough to…"
Tom, being an intelligent boy, frowned and said, "Are you talking to the other Tom Riddle… or are you completely mad?"
It was the breeze that answered him, giving a high, cold laugh. "You are… aren't you?" Tom asked. Quirrell, who was turning so pale Tom wondered if blood was just leaving his body, turned shakenly away from the boy. He reached for his turban, and Tom had to keep his mouth shut as a rancid, odious smell filled the room. When the last of the turban fell away, Tom also had to hold in a scream as he stared, at the back of Quirrell's head, was a malformed, bone-white face with snake-like eyes and slits for a nose. "So… this is what happened to you…" the face said.
For the first time in his life, Tom felt utterly scared. He did not show it, however, he just stared at the hideous face, doing his best to swallow all of his fear. He did not speak until he was sure that his voice would be even. "You are the other Tom," he stated.
The other Tom just gave a laugh. "Idiot child… that is no longer my name…"
Tom frowned and stared at the abomination, thinking. "So, you are Lord Voldemort," Tom said, and Quirrell gave a comical whimper and jumped into the air. Tom smirked and shook his head. Quirrell's actions giving him some confidence at the silliness of the situation. "The Dark Lord… I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I did not read up on you…"
"Foolish child! Do not mock our Dark Lord—"
"Silence…" Voldemort hissed, addressing Quirrell before turning his attention back to Tom. "You should learn your place, boy."
"I really hope my place is not where you are," Tom sighed. He smirked at the Dark Lord, "You," he said, pointing at the abomination, "tried to wage a war…killed hundreds of people, gathered followers. Am I correct?"
"Yes…"
"Then, something happened, something you did not anticipate," Tom smirked. He stood up finally, and started making his way around his desk, towards Quirrell and Voldemort. "You went to kill the Potters… and died during it. You've killed my boy's mother… his father… but you could not kill Harry Potter. And this, I assume, is the cost."
Voldemort stared at Tom, a look of loathing anger and stubbornness. "I see that you at least have my intelligence—though you lack our cruelty."
"Who said I lack that?" Tom asked. "Just because I do not torture little creatures does not mean that I am not cruel." Tom gave Voldemort a cold smirk. "Your host is trembling, isn't he? He is scared… so scare. But of who? I wonder." Then, ignoring Voldemort, he walked around the two-faced man and stared at Quirrell. "Who are you afraid of?" he whispered. "Your master—who is no more than a parasite using you, or me? Another version of him, who has autonomy and, if I so desire it, can tell Dumbledore?"
Quirrell gave a frightful little noise, and Tom smirked.
"I could always kill you, child," Voldemort threatened.
Tom hummed, "You could, but you won't. You need me… or, at least you want me to help you with something. Why else would you reveal yourself to me, Tom Riddle?" At this point, Tom had circled around the two and again was facing Lord Voldemort, who had a stern look on his face.
"Too clever… yes, I need your assistance…"
"For what?"
"Kill Harry Potter," Voldemort said at once.
"No," Tom hummed. "That is not going to happen. You see, he is already my boy, my pet, and in the future, I hope to ask him to be my lover. In order for that to happen, it would be best if he was alive to give consent."
Voldemort glared at Tom angrily. "You are me!" he said. "You will do what I tell you to—"
"No I will not," Tom said. "Forget about Harry, he is mine. But… no, that's not the only reason you're here, is it?"
Voldemort's angry glare remained as he stared at the young boy. "What else are you here for?" Tom asked. "I will help you in that."
"Tell me, boy," Voldemort snarled, "Have you heard of the Philosopher's Stone?"
Tom frowned, thinking for a moment. "I read a work of fiction that it was made by a man named Nicolas Flamel."
"That was no fiction. It exists, and with it I can restore my body," Voldemort explained. "As you can see… due to the actions Potter took, I was separated from my body, less than a ghost I was forced to survive, possessing animals… bidding my time… until Quirrell found me."
"So you attached yourself to Quirrell, and now using him to make this Stone?" Tom asked.
"Make it?" Voldemort laughed coldly. "No…. the Stone is here, somewhere in the castle. …You will find it for me."
"The Philosopher's Stone… a stone of unlimited power," Tom said slowly. In the back of his eyes, a dark twinkle began to shine as his mind whirled around, and a cruel smile appeared on his face. "I think I rather keep such a stone for myself," he said. "You had your chance old man… and you've failed."
"Betray me and I will make sure that you are forced to watch as I torture Potter to insanity," Voldemort threatened. Tom frowned. Not wanting Harry to be involved, or hurt at all, Tom looked up at Voldemort. "Let me think."
"I need an answer now."
"Let me think," Tom said again. "The last time we saw each other was when we were both five," he said. "Let us not ruin our reunion by trying to kill each other."
The two stared at each other. Then, finally, Voldemort said, "One Week. …Quirrell, I am growing tired…"
"Y-Y-Yes, my master," Quirrell quivered, and he began to wrap the turban back onto his head. By the time he was done, Tom was already gone.
"So what did Professor Quirrell want?" Harry asked over dinner.
"Hmm?" Tom hummed. "Oh, nothing. Though, funny you mention him. It was during our talk that I've finally remembered where I saw the name Nicolas Flamel. That name on your Dumbledore Wizard Card."
"Ohh? Where?" Harry asked, curious.
"It was in one of my books," Tom said. "He is credited to making something called the Philosopher's Stone, a stone of unlimited power. Turns out, he really exists."
"Wow," Harry said. "Unlimited power, huh… what would you do with that?"
"If I had unlimited power?" Tom asked. He pretended to think for a minute and turned to Harry, smiling, "Why Harry, I would make you the happiest boy in the world, of course."
"Tom!" Harry blushed, but smiled.
"What about you?" Tom asked.
"Me?" Harry asked, still blushing. "I would… I would… I would find out who your parents were."
"Harry…"
"I know that you worry about that, Tom," Harry said. "And, if I had the stone, I would use it to help you."
Filled by Harry's honesty, kindness, love, and innocence, Tom descended upon the Potter, pressing his lips firmly against the boy's cheek, his teeth accidently scrapping against the flesh before moving away, leaving the boy a beautiful, blushing red that was fuller than a rose's hue. Giving him a small, gentle smile, Tom's mind came to a conclusion. He looked at the Staff Table to see Professor Quirrell watching him, twitching slightly when his eyes met Tom's. Tom chuckled at that, and turned back to Harry, who went to eating. He watched Harry eat for a moment, before leaning towards Draco, "A Good Boy," he whispered, "wants to put their friends' needs above all others. While their… let's say protector put their Boy's need in front of their own. That, ultimately, Malfoy, is what I mean by Good Boy. It is not manners, or how you act, but it is about putting people's needs in front of your own. Harry does that naturally. Not once since I met him did he ever think of putting his wants in front of others' needs. I, however, am horrible at it. I do not care, Draco, for anyone's needs or wants that aren't my own or Harry's. I fail as a Good Boy, but, that is not me, for I am Harry's protector. I have been ever since he walked into my room all those years ago, and through him I have learned to care. What I mean, Malfoy, is that now, you need to think to yourself: Who are you, and who you want to become. No matter what you answer, Draco, I promise you that I will do my part to transform you into your desires."
He leaned back, letting Draco think on the words he said, then started to eat. Draco just stared at Tom for a long time, a permanent frown on his face. He did not talk for the rest of the night. For the first time, he did not address Crabbe and Goyle, nor did he even look at them. When he went to bed, he just muttered his good nights to both Tom and Harry, and closed the curtains around him.
The next morning, which was Friday, Draco went to the Gryffindor Table by himself. Harry saw this, and moved to get up, only for Tom to stop him. "Weasley," Draco said loudly, getting the Gryffindor's attention. "I apologize for what I said on the train."
"Y..Yeah… um thanks, Malfoy…" Weasley said. They stared at each other awkwardly for a moment before breaking eye contact, Draco returning to the Slytherin Table. Harry smiled widely, "So, did you do it?" he asked.
Draco prepared his own plate and jabbed his fork into a cut piece of sausage before bringing it to his mouth. "I just apologized, it's nothing special," he muttered, before eating the sausage. Harry just smiled widely at him while Tom patted his back gently. Despite himself, Draco smiled, wishing for Tom's hand to never leave him.
A/N: Just so you guys know, I have a NEW STORY with a relationship that I like but never really see a lot of. It's called Harry's Pack and filled with werewolf yumminess.
CloudZzFluffyBedsOfWhite: Tom would NEVER let anything come between him and Harry, they're both too damn stubborn for that. And Dumbledore will prove his usefulness, don't worry, because, well, Voldemort is between Harry and Tom… and Tom does not like that. And Blaise? Hmm yeah, I see that… though, at this rate, I wonder who will be the protector, and who will be the Good Boy?
Littlesprout: Then go see Harry's Pack where that pairing is a thing!
Ariadne: I know right? To me Harry is ALWAYS a bottom and Draco is ALWAYS a Top. But I'm willing to try out something new… as long as Harry is still a bottom lol
J.F.C.: Thank you, I could honestly find zero fics where Tom goes into the future, so I just decided to make my own. Oh, and don't worry, this chapter will be the last that will "sound like the book" BC honestly, I still use the book's text but only for place descriptions now. I'm moving further and further away from them. As seen through stories like, Love Happens and Harry's Pack who doesn't even use them AT ALL.
Guest: Well love, that pairing is going to be in Harry's Pack with full on sex scenes of any kinks that will come to mind.
Xx-Kylie-B-xX: Your name reminds me of those kewl boys and girls who wants to be edgy in the early and mid 2000s who just adds random X's everywhere. Anyway, at this point I am debating between Ron and Blaise. Who he will be with determines if he will be the Top or Bottom.
The Lady Courtship: If for whatever reason I decide to include Lucius into this story, that scene would be the reason.
Littlepanther: Dangerous? How can Harry's manipulation be dangerous? Lol
Chris Darkheart: Maybe a one-shot… I don't feel like making an entirely different story JUST for that pairing. That is just too much work, you see.
Aiden Clearwater: Here is the next update
Chix Princess: I don't know to be insulted or laugh…
