Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Eleven—The Diadem

Harry looked around the white space that resembled King's Cross, rolled his eyes, and sat down heavily on the stone wall that had appeared right behind him. "Who is it going to be?" he asked the motionless air. "Dumbledore again? I'm not feeling that congenial towards him right now, just so you know."

The heavy air stirred, and then something landed in front of him. Harry appraised it cautiously. It looked almost like Norberta had when she was a baby, big and clumsy with hunched wings and crooked legs.

But it lifted its head, and the bright golden eyes that fixed on him were intelligent. The dragon prowled a step or two towards him, then stopped as if it wanted to watch what he would do.

"All right," Harry said, when a few minutes had passed without either of them blinking and the dragon continued to stare. "Was I supposed to run away? Salute? What?"

The dragon came up and circled him. Apparently the stone wall Harry was sitting on didn't extend a large distance in either direction. Harry propped his chin on his fist and watched. He doubted the dragon would find whatever it was looking for without talking to him, but then, he was surprised the diadem had managed to establish a connection at all. Potter blood shouldn't hold across a distance of worlds like this.

Especially if the Potters had been different enough to have the green eyes that had belonged to Harry's mum in his first world, and to leave mysterious artifacts behind in Gringotts.

Finally the dragon sat up on its haunches in front of him and closed its eyes. A bright circlet of white light appeared on its forehead, in the approximate shape of the diadem the goblins had shown Harry. A small voice emerged out of it. "Are you the one we've been waiting for?"

"I doubt it."

"But you are a Potter."

"Yes, I was born with that name in my own world," Harry answered simply. "But my mother was Muggleborn there, and she's the reason I have these eyes. I didn't inherit them from my Potter ancestors, and I know nothing about a diadem."

A sharp hiss emerged from the dragon's throat. The band of light that was the diadem shone brighter as if to calm it. Then it said, with a tone that Harry couldn't read in it, "You are a half-blood?"

"Yeah. If we're going to look at ridiculous notions of blood purity, then I reckon I am."

Silence. Harry waited for the dragon or the diadem to say something else, or the white vision to change to a train. Or, hell, maybe he was going to see Dumbledore in front of him and have the man tell him that he'd been dreaming since the Forbidden Forest. With the way Harry felt now, he was prepared for almost anything to happen.

The dragon took a cautious step nearer, and the front of the diadem blazed in the position that would hold the blue gem on the real thing. The voice was a bit more confident this time. "And you were once a Horcrux."

Harry jerked before he could stop himself. Then he reminded himself that Tom knew, and hadn't despised him for it, and there was no one else in this world whose opinion he cared about. Although he might not want the goblins and the Knights of Walpurgis possessing that information. He bared his teeth. "You going to do something about it?"

"It makes you a most suitable host for the diadem."

"If you're going to tell me that one of those distant Potters made a Horcrux and this is my chance to bring them back to life, I should warn you that I can control Fiendfyre. And I have a friend who might have a basilisk fang."

"No. It makes you a suitable host for the diadem because you have already coped with overwhelming magic and come out the victor. You could wear the diadem and not be tempted by the power. Or overwhelmed by the memories of the Potter ancestors who live within it."

Harry drew a shaky breath. The temptation was stronger than he'd thought it would be. After all, what had he left his first world seeking but a family? And to have the memories of dozens of Potters here, without the heartbreak of recent generations...

But a second later, he shook his head. "I'm still not the descendant you were waiting for. There must be one in this dimension who's fit to wear it."

"There is not. I have searched. The goblins have searched. They tired of hosting me long ago, and they have all the money they need to conduct investigations into wizarding genealogies. They have not found someone."

Harry raised his eyebrows a little. "Then I suppose that you'll have to lie in the bank unclaimed." He turned around and studied the white place again. He couldn't see any differentiation in the walls that would show him an entranceway to somewhere else, which he assumed meant he could just start walking in any direction he wanted. He took a step forwards.

The dragon darted around in front of him and lifted its head higher. The gem blazed and coruscated in a way that made Harry have to hide his eyes. "Could you stop it with the light show?" he asked. "I'm not going to be dazzled into putting you on because you decide to do that."

"You are the most suitable candidate I have found in years of searching. You have the name and you have the eyes that once indicated the Potter bloodline in this world, even if they have come from other directions and another dimension. I want you to wear me."

"It's nice to know that I have your vote of confidence. But no."

"What are you so afraid of? The Potters I knew were in Gryffindor House, every one of them, and none of them hesitated to use the power that I carry for the good of their family. Are you so unlike them?"

"I know the kinds of prices that magical artifacts like you exact. And the goblin who showed me to you was pretty clear. Only someone of Potter blood can wear it. That doesn't mean someone from another dimension who happened to be born instead of the Potters who might have existed here."

The dragon was still for a moment, and the light in the diadem died away. Then it said, "You have not even heard what I offer yet."

"So do you admit there is a price, and that you would make me pay for wearing you." Harry rolled his eyes. "Let me hear about the price first. Then you can do your best to tempt me into putting you on."

"You are a most distrustful young man."

"Survival's demanded it," Harry responded, and then leaned back against the wall and folded his arms. The diadem might not let him out of here unless he agreed to put it on, but on the other hand, he wouldn't agree to bond with it unless it offered him something truly spectacular.

The diadem returned to a soft, pulsating light from the middle of the blue gem, and the dragon craned its neck a little higher as if it wanted to support it. Finally the artifact said, "I offer access to the memories of your Potter ancestors—or the ones that would have been yours if you were born here—as I said before. I also offer you the means to control completely any magic that is in or touching your body."

Harry narrowed his eyes a little. "So you're saying that I could gain control of someone else's wand or an artifact I picked up? Complete control? What about affecting the magic of someone whose hand I was holding?"

"Well done," the diadem said, after another pause. "None of my other wielders has ever picked up on that so fast, unless advised by an ancestor. But I was thinking that you would be more interested in the power to control your own magic."

Harry nodded sharply. "It's attractive. And now let's hear about the price."

The diadem loosed a sigh that made it vibrate. Harry wondered a little how it sighed without a mouth, but he wasn't about to ask. For all he knew, there would be a price for that answer, as well. "You would need to feed me blood. Some of it would be your own, but once a month, I would require the blood of an enemy."

"How much?"

"You—are not running in horror."

"Well, it does matter how much." Harry thought of the vampires he'd known for a few months before deciding to leave his world. Some of them had been murderous bastards who deserved the hunting down the Ministry did, but a few, whom Harry had hidden and helped, could feed on a tiny sip of blood from several victims a night and leave them alive. "Buckets? A handful? Drops?"

The diadem blazed and shimmered to itself in a way that made Harry keep a stern eye on it. He was sure that it would twist the terms of the bargain if it could. It might not even be able to help itself, when it was supposed to be worn by a true Potter born in this world and he wasn't one.

"Drops," the diadem finally said. "If you feed me at least two palmfuls of your blood every full moon."

Harry's first thought was that Tom wouldn't like that. His second thought was that Tom would probably consider it worth the price, if it gave Harry back the control over his fluctuating magic. And his third thought was that he should stop concentrating so much on what Tom thought. He nodded and fixed his gaze on the diadem. "Could you restore the control I used to have over my magic?"

There was another long silence in which the diadem and the dragon seemed to be examining him together, probably seeing what he meant in the same way that they'd managed to see he used to be a Horcrux. Then the dragon inclined its head at the same moment as the diadem said, "Yes. But you would never again have the torrent of magic that you used to."

"That's not what I want. I just want the control."

"Yes. I can give you that."

"Is there any other price for wearing you than the blood that I need to feed you? Be truthful."

"No," the diadem said. "There was magic woven into me to prevent any Potter from wearing me, but I can suppress that. And I've spent so much desperate time lying in the bank and waiting for someone to wear me again that I would be willing to do a lot more."

"If I find out that you've lied to me, I won't hesitate to destroy you, and I don't care what it might do to my control over my magic."

"I haven't lied. I meant it when I said I was desperate." The dragon edged towards Harry, holding out the diadem in its teeth now instead of on its head. "I wouldn't have created this place and drawn on your memories if I had any other choice. Or confronted you about being a Horcrux."

Harry nodded his understanding and then reached out to take the diadem. The stone began to burn again the minute he grasped it, but not the blinding light of before. Now it was merely a steady, subdued brilliance, like a fallen star.

The diadem abruptly leaped from the dragon's mouth to Harry's hand. At the same moment, the dragon vanished, and so did the white walls of King's Cross, and everything else that Harry had been leaning against or depending on.

For a moment, he tumbled through a bright void, and wondered if the diadem had lied to him after all, and it was simply destroying him in a less obvious way.

Then he landed, and the world flickered.

Tom was holding his wand to the throat of the goblin who had given Harry the diadem, and other goblins had throwing axes and the like trained on him. That much he knew behind the bright pounding of red at the edges of his vision, but he didn't much care. He was too aware of Harry lying motionless behind him with the diadem clasped to his forehead and a line of blood, like one made by gnawing teeth, all along the front of his brow.

"What did you do to him?" he whispered to the goblin who had given Harry the diadem, and his wand caressed her throat like a lover.

"It was only the diadem's fault! I didn't mean him any harm! Why would I? I've never even seen him before!"

The goblin sounded more alarmed than her sisters looked, but then again, she was the only one who was close enough to actually see into his eyes. Tom shifted closer and smiled at her. The goblin squeaked in terror.

"If he dies, then I promise I will scatter the bones of your body," Tom murmured. He knew just enough about goblin burial customs to realize what a dire threat that was. Her eyes widened in such a satisfying way. "I will drop them in water and toss them into the wind. I will burn them and scatter the ashes. I'll feed your skull to hyenas. I—"

"Do you have to threaten everyone we come across, Tom?"

Tom turned in an instant, his heart singing hard in his ears. Harry was sitting up on the floor, the diadem firmly fastened around his brow. It half-hid the scar that had marked him as the other Voldemort's Horcrux, but the line of blood where the diadem had chewed on him seemed to be gone entirely. He smiled as he extended his hand to Tom.

Tom seized his hand and pulled Harry to his feet, gazing into his eyes while he moved the diadem back a little. It seemed to him that it clung to Harry's skin and refused to move for a moment. Then it tilted, and Harry was smiling at him still, bright and fierce and—

Tom kissed him.

Harry went still against him, then reached up and gently pushed Tom back. He nodded at the goblins around them and murmured, "Later, perhaps?"

"I don't care who knows that I have a claim on you." Tom tightened his hold. "And I hadn't thought it would be the sort of thing you would care about, either," he had to add. Knowing that Harry did made a sharp burn start in the center of his chest.

"I only care that they'd holding axes and swords and pointing them at us," Harry muttered back, then turned to face the goblins. "Look, the Potter diadem found a new owner, and Tom still has a vault to claim. So can we put down the blades and back away slowly?"

There was a long silence. The goblin who Tom had been threatening stood there and glared and obviously wouldn't help them. Then the goblins nodded at each other, and Tom caught a quick buzz of words about "wouldn't help." They lowered their weapons.

"Thank you," Harry said, with a small smile that obviously had more power than he knew. Tom knew enough to be respectful of goblins, but he didn't treat them with the kind of casual politeness that Harry did. Harry faced him again and switched into Parseltongue. "The diadem gives me control of any magic that's in or touching my body. That includes stabilizing control over my magic when it fluctuates."

"And the wands you might hold? The magic of anyone touching you?"

Harry smiled at him fondly and reached up to trace the curve of his cheek with one finger. "Yes."

Tom half-closed his eyes. He hadn't known what a relief it would be to know that he didn't need to fear for Harry anymore, like bathing in cool water, until it arrived. And he much preferred this confident Harry smiling at him now to the one who had looked away from him and cringed when Tom did what was necessary to protect them.

"And Tom."

Tom turned his head gently, because that sounded as if Harry was about to do something objectionable. Harry's eyes were narrowed, his body leaning forwards and poised on his toes.

"If you try to do something again like reading someone's mind by force and then executing them?" Harry's smile was still soft, but it had a brutal edge this time. "Just keep in mind what I can do now that I have my full power back under my control."

"I wouldn't expect you to react any other way," Tom said simply.

This appeared, entertainingly, to confuse Harry. He kept a cautious eye on Tom as they proceeded into the back of the bank where his vault was.

Tom smiled to himself. He appreciated the challenge even as he would fight to contain it. He could like the way Harry seemed to be returning to himself even as he deprecated how it meant Harry would disrupt his control.

He wanted Harry. Not a pale, pastel version of him.

There was nothing better in any world.