After that evening, Harry managed a grand total of two days before he ran into his next bout of trouble. Though, for his 1942 standards, two whole days was pretty darn good.
Since Riddle's ultimatum, the two of them hadn't exchanged any conversations worth noting, most consisting of: "good morning, Harold," "don't talk to me, Riddle," and "good evening, Harold," "leave me alone, Riddle." Or something along those lines.
But the general quietness had given Harry a lot of time to think. His top concern of course was getting home, something Dumbledore had promised to investigate, though since the chamber had been opened, Dumbledore admitted to having more pressing matters at hand.
Harry's second concern was the priori incantatum that had not occurred between he and Riddle. Not that that was a concern, more of a blessing really, but it was still unexplainable. The best answer Harry had come up with so far was that none of them had been trying to kill the other, so perhaps that had prevented it? Or perhaps his wand just realised that if it did anything out of the ordinary, Harry would have to abandon it. Either or.
His third concern was that, due to his stupid bacon argument with Riddle over the breakfast table on Sunday, he now was forced to avoid the it like the plague. Trouble was, he was now really craving a bacon sandwich.
It was Wednesday 30th September 1942, classes had just finished for the day and Harry was making his way down to the kitchens as sneakily as possible lest Riddle see him, follow him, and stop him getting his bacon sandwich. That would suck.
Checking back over his right shoulder for any stalking Slytherins, Harry veered off from the entrance hall in the direction of the portrait of the fruit bowl, which luckily existed in this decade, otherwise he'd be screwed. Unfortunately, being sneaky was not as easy as the muggle spy films Dudley used to watch had made it seem. Too busy checking behind him, Harry didn't watch where he was placing his feet and so, just as he rounded a corner, he walked slap bang into someone, nearly making them loose their balance and fall to the floor.
"Sorry," Harry muttered, taking a step back and pushing his glasses up his nose. Then he froze.
"You should watch where you're going, snake," the seventh year boy said, pushing his own glasses up his nose and flicking a stand of exceedingly messy dark brown hair out of his face. Harry gaped. Charlus Potter. His grandfather. Wow, time travel was weird. He'd seen the older boy around a few times since coming to the past, though this was the first time they'd spoken. "Do I have something on my face?" Charlus demanded as Harry continued to do nothing but stare.
"Er, no," Harry said, breaking out of his trance. "I just, just thought you looked like someone I knew, for a moment."
"Well, that's great and all," Charlus gave him a dirty look and stepped past him, heading towards the entrance hall.
"Wait," Harry blurted out, trying to prolong this unexpected meeting.
Charlus turned back expectantly and raised his eyebrows as Harry tried to think of something to say. Luckily, he didn't have to as Charlus suddenly frowned. "Hey, you're that new kid everyone's talking about, aren't you?"
Harry blinked. "Um, yeah I am," he said, then, "wait, everyone's talking about me?"
Charlus grinned, earlier animosity vanishing in an instant. "Course. You took on Tom Riddle in the duelling club with a malfunctioning wand and didn't lose! I mean, you didn't win either but still. No one takes on Tom Riddle!"
"No one?" Harry repeated. "Why not?"
Charlus shrugged. "Isn't it obvious? He's brilliant at spell work, probably knows more about magic than half the staff already and he's only a sixth year. People are scared to duel against him. And I get that, if there's no chance of winning, why would you?"
Harry had to make a concious effort not to let his mouth drop open. "So you all just sit back and let him and his entourage walk all over you?" He frowned.
"Huh?" Charlus said, giving Harry a weird look. "Walk all over us? Tom doesn't do that. Don't tell anyone I said this but he's actually an alright guy, for a Slytherin at least-"
"Wait," Harry said slowly, not believing what he was hearing. "We are talking about the same Tom Riddle, right?" You know, the one who's opened the chamber of secrets, grows up to be a mass murderer, kills my parents and ruins my life. But of course, he didn't say that last bit out loud.
"As far as I know, there's only one Tom Riddle," Charlus said.
"But he's a, he's a bastard," Harry spluttered.
Charlus took a step away from him, narrowing his eyes. "Look, I don't know what business you and Tom have going on with each other, but that's your business, keep me out of it. I already have a detention for skipping Defence this morning, I don't want any more trouble."
And so Harry was left standing in the corridor alone as Charlus rushed off, contemplating how stupid and blind people were in 1942. Why was it only him who saw Riddle for who he truly was? A monster.
However, this little mishap with his grandpa wasn't enough to stop Harry from getting his bacon sandwich so he continued on his journey, perhaps a little more disgruntled than before. Regrettably, the real trouble began just as the fruit bowl portrait came into Harry's sight.
He was halted mid-step as a rough hand suddenly clamped around his wrist and yanked him into a dark, abandoned classroom just off the corridor.
"Get off me, Riddle you twat," was the first thing Harry said as he squinted through the sudden darkness, twisting his wrist and wriggling free. His wand was in his hand in an instant. "Lumos," he muttered, then nearly dropped his wand in shock.
Aber Rosier, the burly fifth year who had accused him of being the heir of Slytherin on Sunday night, stood before him, not Riddle. Another fellow Slytherin stood behind him, just out of the pool of light. "Aber Rosier," Aber said, extending a hand which Harry shook in a state of mild confusion, not lessening his grip on his lit wand in his right hand.
"I'm Silas Yaxley," the other Slytherin said, taking a small step forwards to let the wandlight wash over his face. The pureblood was tanned, probably of a similar height to Riddle and had neat, shoulder length, blonde hair.
"Right," Harry said, emerald eyes flicking between the two students, attempting to discern how trustworthy they were likely to be. Wait, scratch that, they were both 1942 Slytherins, trustworthy? Not likely. "And, um... why are you pulling me into a dark, abandoned classroom?" He asked.
"We need to speak with you," Aber said, his usually loud and brash voice reduced to a quieter volume.
"Okay," Harry said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Why did he get the feeling he was so not going to like where this was headed? "You do realise that it is perfectly simple to talk to me, oh, I don't know, in the common room, or the great hall, for example."
"Not if we don't want the other students to see us," Yaxley pointed out.
"And why don't you want us to be seen?" Harry asked slowly.
Aber grinned toothily down at Harry. "Look, Harold. We couldn't help but notice that you, ah, moderately dislike Riddle-"
Harry snorted. Moderately dislike? How about loathe?
"-Point is, we want Riddle gone and we think you're the best chance we've got of accomplishing that."
Harry blinked at the two boys, then took a deep breath. That hadn't been what he was expecting... at all. On Sunday night, he'd kind of got the impression the Aber disliked Riddle, but to actively try to rival him was another matter. Course, Harry himself did it several times in an hour, however, Riddle had killed his parents, that gave him the right. What on earth did Riddle do to Aber? "How am I your best chance?" Harry questioned.
"Because Riddle's offered you a place within his inner circle," Yaxley replied. "We'd have someone right on the inside-"
"No," Harry abruptly said, not even letting Yaxley finish his sentence. His hand was on the door handle when he felt a firm grip on his upper arm, stopping his escape in its tracks. "Get off me, Rosier," he hissed, glowering up at the burly boy. When Aber only rolled his eyes, Harry twisted his wand around to point straight at the fifth year's face.
"Easy," Yaxley said, eyeing his wand nervously. "Just think about it for a moment. On the one hand, you'd have to pretend to be part of the inner circle, but on the other hand, Riddle would have no idea you were stabbing him in the back until it was too late."
Harry raised his eyebrows, though his wand did lower slightly. "And you honestly believe Riddle wouldn't suspect a thing? He's hardly what I'd call an idiot, he knows I'd never willingly join him."
"Which is why we have to use the time we've got to convince him otherwise," Aber said, apparently convinced Harry wasn't going to run away for he released his grip. "I heard Riddle last night, he said the next attack would be on Halloween. It's the 30th of September today so we have roughly a month."
"But I still don't see how-"
Yaxley sighed. "Harold, stop interrupting and let us speak, we have a plan. I don't know how much you know about Slytherin hierarchy, but right now, you're in the spotlight. Not only have you proven yourself as a capable wizard but you currently have no alliance or, er, friends within the house."
"Hey," Harry said, frowning in annoyance. "I have friends-"
"Don't take this the wrong way," Aber said, smirking. "But you really don't."
"Aber," Yaxley hissed. "You're not helping. Anyway," he turned back to Harry. "We believe Riddle's plan is for you to either join him or get kicked from Hogwarts." Harry started to protest but Yaxley only talked over him. "The last thing he wants would be for you to be seen having other contacts within the house, not only does it threaten his plan but he'll get jealous."
"And how do you know that?" Harry asked, though, having seen Riddle's possessive side for himself, he privately agreed.
"It's what happened with Marius," Aber said. "He's my cousin, you see."
"Oh," Harry tilted his head to the side and lifted his lit wand tip higher. "Yeah, now you mention it, I kinda see the resemblance. It's in the hair."
Aber scowled, folding his arms across his chest and standing up taller, somehow making him appear much more intimidating. "Are you interested in what we're saying or not?"
Harry shrugged non-committally, but indicated with his left hand for Yaxley to continue.
"If he's jealous," Yaxley continued. "He'll try to spend more time with you, which provides you with plenty of opportunity to pretend that you're getting to know him, and that you're starting to realise he's not as bad as you first thought he was. Then you feed him some story about how when you first came to Hogwarts, you were upset over what happened to your village and that you weren't acting like yourself etcetera etcetera."
Harry nodded hesitantly. "Okay," he said. "Let's say that Riddle does decide he can trust me and I join the inner circle, what happens then?"
A satisfied smirk lit up Aber's face. "We get him expelled," he said. "Everyone in our house with a brain knows that Riddle's the heir of Slytherin, we just need the rest of the school to know it too."
"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds so simple," Harry said sarcastically, though the cogs in his mind were beginning to turn. If he'd had done what he'd originally planned to do – challenge Riddle to a duel he knew he couldn't win, no matter how hard he studied and trained over the next month – he'd end up completely alone, twiddling his thumbs and waiting for Riddle to set him up, or whatever else he was planning to do.
Yet if he went along with this strange, new opportunity, he could completely flip the tables on Riddle and quite possibly get him expelled, probably saving Myrtle's life in the process. But... if he wasn't stuck in some alternate dimension and he truly had gone back in time, he could end up changing who knew what in the future. Maybe everything.
"So, are you in?" Yaxley asked, looking at Harry hopefully.
Harry bit his lip, green eyes flicking between Aber and Yaxley. "I guess," he finally said. After all, what was the harm? It would be easy to abandon this alliance in the future, but for now, it seemed like a good plan. Besides, annoyingly, Aber was right. He had no friends within Slytherin.
"Excellent," Yaxley said while Aber grinned. "Then let's get started right away. Join me for dinner in the Great Hall later?"
When Harry was eventually released from the abandoned classroom a lesson in being a Slytherin later, there were two main thought chasing themselves around his mind. The first being that he may actually have a shot at getting his revenge on Riddle once and for all, and the second being that now, he could finally get his bacon sandwich.
"Just because he's a ghost, doesn't mean he can't give you a detention," Lycoris said, frowning at Alphard over the Slytherin table at dinner that evening.
"I don't care," Alphard said, moodily stabbing his jacket potato with his fork. "History of Magic is a stupid subject, why should I do the homework if I'm not learning anything interesting?"
"Because!" Lycoris said, glaring at Abraxas when the Malfoy heir sniggered into his dinner. "Tom?"
"Alphard, do your homework," Tom said absently, eyes trained on the Great Hall entrance, hardly touching his food.
Lycoris sent Alphard a satisfied smirk as if Tom's word was final, which, in his books, it was. "Come on, it's only a three foot essay, how bad could it be?"
"How bad could it be?" Alphard repeated incredulously, his eyes wide. "Three whole feet! That's such a waste of my time!"
"Detention's also a waste of your time," Lycoris pointed out.
"Oh, shut up, both of you," Marius said. "I swear, this argument gets put on repeat every evening."
"It does," Abraxas agreed. "This is the third time this week, and it's Wednesday!"
Lycoris threw his hands up in exasperation. "That's because Alphard never does his-"
"Why is Harold with Yaxley," Tom suddenly said, his sharp tone cutting off the argument.
All together, the inner circle glanced over towards the great hall entrance. Indeed, Harold Luxtor and Silas Yaxley were making their way across the great hall, evidently engrossed in conversation.
"Tom, relax," Abraxas immediately said. "Harold doesn't know the first thing about Slytherin politics, they most likely met in the library, started talking about school work and decided to walk to the Great Hall together.
Tom didn't look convinced. "I'm not so sure," he said coolly, watching the two sit down. "Yaxley's hardly an innocent pawn, he's in Rosier's crew."
"I still don't think-" Abraxas begun but Tom had already gotten to his feet and picked up his dinner plate.
"Stay here," Tom ordered, walking away from them and down to the other end of the long table where Harold and Yaxley had just seated themselves. "Mind if I join you?" He asked brightly, model student mask flashing back up.
Harold frowned at his food but Yaxley smiled graciously. "If you wish," the blonde pureblood said, indicating toward the spare seat next to him.
"Thank you," Tom said, taking the seat. "You see, Lycoris and Alphard were having a rather tiresome argument and I didn't think my sanity could take it any longer. I do hope I'm not interrupting anything?"
"Not at all," Harold muttered, rolling his eyes.
Yaxley looked between the two sixth years with an amused expression. "We were simply talking about how Harold's enjoying Hogwarts so far," he said, giving a purposeful look in Harold's direction. Interesting, Tom noted.
After a brief second of eye contact with Yaxley, Harold actually glanced up from his plate, making steady eye contact with Tom who was amazed to see that the hate that usually burned bright in those green orbs wasn't to be seen. The boy nodded. "I'm particularly enjoying Defence Against the Dark Arts at the moment," Harold said. "Professor Merryweather's a good teacher."
"Really?" Tom asked, inwardly marvelling at the fact that Harold was striking up a polite, normal conversation with him. "I always found her to be a little... dated."
Harold shrugged, placing a mouthful of potato and beans in his mouth. "Well," he said after swallowing – nice to know the new student had better table manners than Alphard. "Compared to some of the tutors I've had." Harold smirked to himself, as if enjoying some private joke.
"I'm sure we don't want to here where that's headed," Yaxley said, raising his eyebrows.
"Probably not," Harold consented. "Almost all of them were complete nutters."
To Tom's immense surprise, Harold managed to go through the entirety of dinner without being outwardly hostile and rude towards him even once. There were a few brief moments when the hate hidden behind Harold's eyes seemed to spark, but on the whole he acted just like any other student. Which of course set off all the warning bells in Tom's head.
"Well?" Abraxas had asked the second Tom rejoined his group. "What do you think?"
Tom leant forwards, azure eyes sparkling dangerously. "Either Harold desperately wants to look good in Yaxley's eyes, or something's going on," he said quietly. "He was exceedingly polite."
"Aber?" Marius questioned.
Tom leaned back and shrugged. "Who knows? Perhaps it might be better to sit back and see how things play out."
Lycoris frowned at his plate, though said nothing. Tom? Sit back? No, things were about to get very interesting in the Snake House.
A/N: I'm sorry... I'm so so sorry this is such a late update. *hides from tomato throwers*. But I have excuses, promise. I started college in September so basically went from doing nothing all day to being out 9-5 with loads of work to do:( Luckily, I've managed to get into a routine again and I have specific writing times so the next update will definitely not take six weeks!
Massive thanks to all you amazing, fabulous, awesome Favouriters, Followers, Reviewers and Readers! You're the reason I wrote for a solid three days to get this chapter done xD