Author's Note: I saw Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them! It was amazing, and now I really want to write something to do with it. If you haven't seen it yet, I highly recommend watching it. The plot and characters are all great.
Also, I think I'm going to start posting longer chapters, hopefully longer than 2,000 words. Thanks for the support, as always, and be sure to leave a review. They help me a lot with my writing.
At five o'clock, they took their place at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. The decorations were outstanding, as was the food. There was turkey, ham, treacle tart, pie, and even chocolate cake. Christmas crackers at the orphanage had contained cheap trinkets that broke within an hour of use, but wizarding crackers were magnificent. From just three, Harry had amassed a wizard's chess set, a top that spun forever, a small music box, and a pack of seeds to grow what were supposedly the five most useful magical plants.
The teachers' table was also an interesting sight to behold. Professor Dumbledore's cheeks were rosy, and, with his red robes, he looked like he could be a very thin Father Christmas. His half-moon glasses were slipping further and further down his nose. Professor McGonagall's hat was tipping precariously sideways, and she was laughing much more often than usually (which was maybe once a day, from what Harry had seen). Hagrid's entire face was red, and Harry saw Tom grimace when Hagrid leaned over to give McGonagall a kiss. Obviously he wasn't fond of the thought of a relationship between the two, especially when she giggled afterwards.
The finale to the dinner was Christmas cake and puddings that were literally on fire. Tom refused to try them until Harry had, but finally gave in after a while. When they returned back to the dorm that evening, they were much too tired and full to think about what they had seen in Quirrell's office. For now, Harry was content with the knowledge that this had been his best Christmas yet.
The Malfoys' New Year celebration was on Tuesday evening. In reality, it began on New Year's Eve and lasted until midday on Wednesday. The note had included instructions on how to use something called Floo travel to go to the manor, and a dress code. They were supposed to wear dress robes, which they had hastily ordered from Madam Malkin's catalogue. They weren't tailored properly, but Harry had been working on a tailoring charm and was able to do an adequate job on them. Tom had been reluctant to let Harry buy his set of dress robes, as he didn't like owing favors to other people. He agreed, though, out of lack of a better option.
They'd have to get a teacher to help them, which was harder than it seemed. Snape didn't really like Harry (and now he knew why), Quirrell was now their enemy, Dumbledore would probably disapprove, as would Professor McGonagall and likely Professor Sprout. They didn't know any of the elective professors well enough to ask, so that left Professor Flitwick.
Harry handed him the note early in the morning on Tuesday, and explained their situation.
Flitwick gave them a scrutinizing look. "I wish you would have given me earlier notice, but I suppose that I can help you. Why didn't you ask Professor Snape?"
"He doesn't really seem to be fond of me, sir, and by extension, he doesn't really like Tom either."
"I see," Flitwick said while deep in thought. "Do you two have dress robes?"
"Yes," Tom answered.
"Then meet me in my office this evening, and I'll show you how to get there."
"Thank you, sir!" Harry's voice had a youthful quality to it. They returned to the dormitory to get ready for the party.
"Harry, you've got to at least brush your hair."
"I did already, Tom. And besides, it's neater than usual."
"That's not saying much. Hold on a second." Tom marched over to Draco's bed, using the unlocking spell to rummage around in his nightstand. He made a face upon seeing undergarments, but finally was able to pull out a container of pinkish gel. "Sleekeazy's Hair Potion and Scalp Treatment," he explained. "I knew Malfoy was bound to have some."
"And?" Harry questioned.
"You're going to use it." Under Tom's watchful gaze, Harry slathered his hair in the pinkish stuff, then forced his comb through it. By the end of the ordeal, his hair looked wavy and smooth like Tom's, and they were ready to go. They trudged upstairs to Flitwick's office; the dress robes were horrendous to move in.
"Hello there, Tom, Harry. I almost didn't recognize you, Harry — you dress up nicely."
"Thank you, sir."
"Ready? Now all you have to do is grab a pinch of this Floo powder here, then step into the fireplace and say your destination clearly. In this case, you would say 'Malfoy Manor.'"
Harry decided to go first. Hesitantly, he picked up some Floo powder and awkwardly clambered into the hearth. "Malfoy Manor!" he said, his voice a bit quavery.
The next thing he knew, he was tumbling out of a fireplace in a completely different location. He nearly groaned when he realized that he was in the middle of a grand parlor, and that other people had noticed his clumsy arrival. Quickly, he stood up and brushed the ashes off of his robes and cleaned off his glasses, annoyed at the stares that everyone in the room was giving him.
Tom came out of the fireplace a second later, but he had managed to land on his feet without stumbling. They stood there awkwardly until a tall blonde man, likely Draco's father, entered the room.
"I don't believe we've met, but Draco has told me much about you two. I'm Lucius Malfoy, his father."
"It's nice to meet you," Harry said, shaking the man's hand. "I'm Harry Potter."
"Of course," he said. "And you must be Tom Riddle." He paused on Tom's name, obviously less fond of the Muggle connotations it had.
"Yes." Tom also shook his hand. An equally blonde woman had sidled up next to Mr. Malfoy.
"This is my wife, and Draco's mother, Narcissa." At Lucius's introduction, she offered them small, reserved smiles and polite handshakes.
"We'll have to discuss more this evening, but for now I must act as a host. Draco and the other children are in the music room to the left. You'll likely hear them before you'll see them," he explained good-naturedly.
They nodded. He turned out to be right about the music room. A grand piano, set aside to the corner, was playing "Auld Lang Syne" without anyone to play it. Several couches and ornate seats were scattered about the room, and marble sets of wizard's chess and gobstones were surrounded by children.
"You made it!" Draco exclaimed, jumping up from where he was obviously bored on the couch. "Everyone, this is Tom Riddle and Harry Potter."
A few pairs of eyes widened upon hearing Harry's name, though a few of the others sneered upon hearing Tom's
"I can't believe you invited the mudbloods, Draco!" Pansy Parkinson whined.
"Have you seriously not learned your lesson?" Harry asked boredly, rolling his eyes.
Her eyes widened and she yelped upon remembering Tom's little act of magic during the feast. Recovering, she crossed her arms, but remained silent. Tom smirked.
Draco motioned for them to take a seat on an empty couch. "You already know Daphne from school, but her sister Astoria's going to be going to Hogwarts in a few years. This is Ajax Zabini, Blaise's older brother and a third-year." He motioned first to a young girl with strawberry blonde hair and then to a tall, olive-skinned boy who bore a striking resemblance to Blaise.
"Alexander Dolohov, he's a second year," Draco said. The boy in question had brown hair and a brooding expression. "He's not one for parties," Draco side-whispered to them. "I think that's everyone here. The upper year students are in a different room. Oh, and just ignore Pansy. She's just jealous, because she can't cast a spell to save her life."
"Hey!" she shouted, her scowl deepening even more.
Harry and Tom played a few games of wizard's chess. Harry was very new to the game, and had yet to win a game against Tom. Even Draco couldn't beat him, though their game did take a long time to finish.
Eventually, Draco pulled them outside the room for a tour and to go introduce them to people. Harry felt like a show pony.
"Out there are the stables. We don't really have much right now, but a long time ago, there used to be hippogriffs and unicorns." Draco was pointing out the window. "Those are our peacocks. They're albino."
"I can see the resemblance," Tom said, snickering. Draco's brows furrowed and Harry smacked Tom on the shoulder.
Draco led them into the sitting room where Harry had made his less than graceful entrance. "This is my grandmother, Isadora Malfoy."
"Hello," Harry said awkwardly. "It's a pleasure to meet you." The woman had milky blue eyes and white hair, and looked very strict.
"Riddle, huh? I wasn't aware that he'd had children."
"Oh, erm, I'm not Riddle. I'm Harry Potter. He's Tom Riddle."
"Did you know my father, ma'am?" Tom asked curiously. Harry shot him a look. Tom knew what he was doing — meddling with time — but it wasn't good.
"Not really, but Abraxas did. Said he was the brightest student Hogwarts had seen. I always wondered where he disappeared to. Would you happen to know?"
"Sorry, ma'am. I grew up in an orphanage. I was told that he'd died."
"That's a right shame, then." Tom nodded politely.
Next, they met several of their classmates' parents. Franklin Nott had twitched when he'd heard Tom's last name, but the conversation was still civil. Harry wondered why all of these purebloods hated the idea of Muggleborns so much, when they were wasting their energy. Shouldn't they dislike Muggles instead, for how they treated wizards?
Draco didn't even bother introducing they to Pansy's father, William Parkinson, who was apparently even more of a bigot than his daughter. Finally, they had circled back to Draco's father, who wanted to speak to them in private.
His office was large and luxurious. It was decorated in rich black cherry wood, and intricate plant designs and snakes were carved into the woodwork. He cast some silencing charms.
"I know that you two are parselmouths—"
"—I'm sorry for interrupting, sir, but please don't tell anyone," Harry pleaded.
Mr. Malfoy tried to smile. It was rather cold, though. "Relax, Mr. Potter. You have my word. What I want to know is how. How is it possible for there to be two parselmouths in the same generation of wizards, when the Dark Lord was the last one known?"
"That's exactly the thing, sir. He was the last one known, but it's likely that there were more whose powers were kept a secret." Tom's gaze was attentive.
"There were no known parselmouths in the Potter family."
"Well, I seem to be an exception to everything, don't I, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry questioned.
"Hmm. I suppose so, Harry, if I may call you such. And Mr. Riddle, you are the child of Tom Riddle, born in 1926?"
Tom seemed surprised at what Lucius Malfoy knew of him. "Yes."
"Who is your mother?"
"I-I don't know, sir. Harry and I both grew up in an orphanage."
"An orphanage?" Malfoy Sr.'s eyes were wide. "Ministry records show that you were placed in the care of Muggle relatives, Harry."
"I was, but they...erm...weren't the nicest. After I hurt their son with accidental magic, when I was five, they sent me off to the orphanage."
"How barbaric."
"Erm, yes, I suppose."
"I'll be investigating this further, but for now, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope that I haven't overwhelmed you two."
"Not at all, sir," Tom said with a charming smile.
They returned to the parlor, where everyone had gathered to count down until the new year. Draco gave them a questioning look, though he didn't say anything about their meeting with his father. Harry felt his eyelids getting heavier. People finally began to leave the party at five in the morning, so he and Tom were able to leave at six without offending anyone. Overall, it was a strange experience, with Lucius Malfoy and everything else considered. Harry told himself that he'd have to get used to it, though, because events like this one were more important in the wizarding world. It wasn't until later that night that he realized that December 31 was Tom's birthday, but it was forgotten after a night of deep sleep, especially because Tom didn't mention it further.
The rest of the winter holiday went by quickly. Harry had procrastinated and put off his homework until the very last day before class, which Tom laughed at, seeing as he had finished his the day it was assigned. Harry's retort to that was that the information would still be fresh in his mind for classes the next day.
Slowly, they were preparing to steal the Philosopher's Stone. Tom had figured out that Fluffy could be put to sleep from music, so they'd both learned how to cast a charm that would cause the music box to play endlessly, until the counter-charm was used.
Beyond that, they weren't sure what other protections there were. They had been practicing Defense Against the Dark Arts in an abandoned classroom in the dungeons, locking the door and putting silencing spells on so they wouldn't arouse suspicion. Their plan was to learn all of the spells that they could before trying to steal the Stone.
Not much happened aside from that. Their final examinations loomed on the horizon, and Harry found that Draco was pleasant to talk to when he wasn't trying to brag or undermine others. The common room was always full of furiously-studying students, and life went on as usual.