It's been a shitty week, so it's a shitty, short and ridiculously late chapter too, sorry. Once again, thank you all, you're the only reason I could make myself actually sit down and write at all this week.
To Guest: Thank you, dear! Hopefully this will all be answered soon :)
Disclaimer: I may actually be reluctantly coming to terms with the fact that no, I don't own Harry Potter.
Their research was almost completely fruitless.
Every moment of free time in the next two weeks was spent in the library, with little to no results. Searching, searching, never finding anything. Tom could hardly explain to himself why it was that important; he certainly had no wishes to unite with long lost family members, but he still had to know.
He never quite gave it up, but after two weeks and no progress, he allowed the matter to slip from his priorities and be pushed in the back of his mind. There were other things to focus on; his studies and Harry and the hierarchy structure of Slytherin, or rather, how he could make it to the top of it.
The one discovery he did make concerning the matter, ironically enough, came from a book he had only meant to read at his leisure, not searching for anything in particular.
It was Saturday, an uncharacteristically sunny and warm day for November, and since Harry had insisted (whined and nagged him until he agreed) that it'd be a waste to spend it inside, they were sitting under a tree, facing the Black Lake.
It didn't look black at all that day; its waters, utterly motionless, were shimmering as rays of the sun, slowly descending towards the horizon, fell upon them. The sky was clear, save for a couple of lazy white clouds.
Harry was flipping through his Defence homework. Tom was supposed to be just re-reading Hogwarts: A History- his first read of the book had been a bit hasty, wanting to have the crucial parts down by the time they started Hogwarts, and with everything else on his mind, he hadn't bothered to go over the book again earlier, more thoroughly.
Now...
The section he was going through was interesting enough, briefly explaining the symbolism in the four houses' crests, but hadn't seemed remotely useful...which was, admittedly, why he had skipped it the first time. He shouldn't have dismissed it quite so easily, and maybe there was some sort of lesson to be learned from this; there was importance in details, too.
Because now Tom did a double-check, to make sure he'd read correctly, wide eyed and startled and amazed.
The Slytherin House Crest is composed of the image of a serpent, and water as the background. Their colours are silver and green respectively. A snake is the animal chosen to represent Slytherin House, both for its resoursefulness and ambitious nature, much similar to Slytherin students, and to reflect on Salazar's Slytherin rare ability to speak Parseltongue, the language of serpents. Slytherin often symbolises the element of water-
It was faintly alarming how his first reaction when he had somewhat registered what he read was to shove the book in Harry's face, without a comment. He should have at least considered the possible benefits of keeping this piece of information to himself before sharing it.
"Tom, what the-"
"Third paragraph."
And Harry ducked his head, no (further) questions asked, eyes roaming over the page. "Oh. Bloody hell- language of serpents. So that's what the thing we're doing is called? Parsel-whatever?"
Tom snored. "Correct. Parseltongue."
"So, if Slytherin could do it and it's symbolised in the House Crest," Harry concluded, slowly, "I'm guessing it's a very Slytherin skill. And since everyone's working to make Slytherin an equivalent to snotty pureblood, it's no wonder those kids were confused when we did it. The way it's written, it doesn't sound like it can be learned."
"Correct, again," Tom confirmed, smiling slyly. Though it made him wonder when and how they should further display their ability. "You're being unusually bright today, should I worry?"
Harry fumed, jabbing the book at his shoulder. "Sod off. Just brag about how you have this completely awesome skill that's so very Slytherin but none of our 'true' Slytherin classmates have, or something."
Tom laughed, snatching the book just about Harry was about to start reading again. It wasn't like his friend didn't have his own copy of it, he could easily enough retreat it if he bothered.
He gave a satisfied, and definitely not smug grin as he glanced at the boy, who had pouted and shifted so he was more lying down than sitting, watching the lake. The sun was beginning to set, burning golden and soft red, the light reflecting on the water.
"I never brag. I'm logically and reasonably proud of my absolute, undeniable superiority."
"Sure. 's nice," Harry yawned, dismissively, eyes closing, a bright smile on his face.
"To what do we owe the sudden good mood?" Tom murmured, raising a brow in amusement.
"That's 'cause you're in a good mood too, of course," Harry replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "'s been a while since you last were in a good mood."
Innocent, amazing, confusing Harry.
"I should do it more often. You're rather entertaining like this," he noted, a hint of teasing in his tone.
"Mm. Y' should," his friend agreed. "Hush now. 'm sleepy."
Tom smiled at him fondly. "Let's get you inside then, boy scout. It's past your curfew already."
"Bad enough that the professors give us a curfew," Harry mumbled. "Y' don't get to give me one, too."
Sleepy Harry was always very amusing, and somehow it was all made even better due to the fact that staying up late to help Tom with his research was the reason for Harry's sleepiness.
"If you fall asleep here, I'll walk off and let the big bad monsters come and get you," he informed his friend dryly, the threat very realistic as the were close enough to the Forbidden Forest.
"Ha. Y' won't."
Harry really shouldn't tempt him like that, considering how deeply curious he was about the creatures in the forest. His friend would have truly made lovely bait, if Tom was remotely okay with the idea of letting any harm come to Harry. Which he wasn't, so the entire point was moot, but still...
"Up you go, then. It's getting late, wouldn't do your good little boy repoputation any good to be caught snivelling around."
"Don't call me that!" Harry protested, but got to his feet slowly. He blinked a few times, returning to full coherency apparently. "For your information, I break the rules as much as you do. I just don't do it to fulfil evil purposes or for my own sadistic amusement."
"You think so lowly of me," Tom sniffed mockingly. He probably should be sneaking into the Restricted Section of the library right now, trying to find a book on Parseltongue, but... "Very well. What purpose do you reckon rules should be broken for, then?"
Harry grinned mischievously, suddenly energetic as if he'd just gotten up from a good night's sleep.
Game on.
Really, his friend was more than a little hypocritic for accusing him of breaking the rules for 'his own sadistic amusement'. The pranks they spent the biggest part of the night preparing were, though not immensely painful, humiliating at best.
Pranking had never crossed his mind before, too childish and pointless an activity to seriously consider, even if admittedly somewhat amusing. But it seemed to satisfy Harry, and this excuse seemed to somehow give even the most pathetic activities value.
And well, it wasn't a terrible alternative way to get back at people who irritated him.
Like Alphard Black, whose books kept singing to him in high-pitched voices all through the morning classes, and Radbourne Lestrange, another new acquaintance of Harry's, whose feather pens viciously fought to scribble (maul off) his face whenever he attempted to pick them up.
"Tom, seriously, that was not-" Harry tried to scold him at History of Magic, before breaking off in muffled sniggers.
Tom sneered. "You're hardly one to talk. Did you know that Nott woke up this morning to find his robes dyed hot pink? Very curious, isn't it?"
Harry rolled his eyes, glancing at the boy in question, who was flusing scarlet at the embarrasement of having to walk around in them. The dye was permanent, and pink was definitely not his colour.
"I noticed that, it's a bit hard not to," he drawled, "but he, unlike Alphard and Rad, is a grovelling git, so I don't even feel inclined to be sorry for him."
"Rad? First names basis already?" Tom murmured, raising an eyebrow.
Had he mentioned he sincerely disliked Radbourne Lestrange? Because he did. A lot.
Honestly, Tom knew perfectly well that Harry was a more out-going person than himself. It was expected that his friend would try to make acquaintances, merely for the sake of having them and not because they served some purpose.
But he didn't have to be so friendly with them, did he?
Harry shrugged. "Lestrange sounds kind of depressive. Rad has a nicer ring to it, you know?"
Clearly, he hadn't pranked Lestrange severely enough.
He had far more reason to complain than Harry did, anyway- Tom would hardly endure Nott's presense if it wasn't for the boy's connections. Not that it wasn't, strangely enough, immensely satisfying to know that his friend was just as possesive of him as he was of Harry.
But the other's acquaintances were still despisable, and should consider themselves lucky they'd gotten away simply with some embarrasement.
"At least we can both agree that the army of slugs bursting into Slughorn's classromm and latching onto him were hilarious?" Harry suggested, in a peace offering.
Tom gave him a look. "Of course. All of them were hilarious. They were our doing, how could they not?" It was amazing how he could just throw a comment like that, and Harry would grin so widely that it was practically abuse for his cheeks. "But I'm still bewildered how a good little boy such as yourself would break the rules in such a scandalizing way, let alone influence another to do the same."
"I told you not to call me that!" the other replied, huffing. "If what we're doing isn't downright immoral, I don't mind. I just mind getting caught."
He had a point there.
And though Harry's fear of getting caught edged on the melodramatic side, in the safety of his own mind, Tom had to admit that he'd instilled a very useful catiousness to him, as it was irritating to see Harry sulk whenever they were busted doing something 'wrong' in the orphanage. His actions before Harry came along had been a bit less discreet than he liked...
Why did his friend have to have that stupid effect on him, making him reconsider things he didn't want to, and roping him into participating in activities so irrational and childish as pranking? Especially when there were far more important things he should be focusing on?
At least Binns' class made for excellent free studying time though, and he could somewhat make up for all the time he had (irrationally) wasted. He promptly (childishly) ignored the other for the rest of the class in favour of reading.
He was a spiteful person, and it seemed like appropriate payback.
Originally there was supposed to be another short scene in this but even though I know how it goes in my head I can't put it into words. Therefore, short chapter. Sorry.
Writing from Tom's POV is too much fun, as much as it can be a pain in the butt sometimes. 'Cause who doesn't love writing as an eleven year old psychopath in the making, right.
Tell me what you guys thought :)
