AN: Sorry for the long absence. A lot of family drama, anxiety, depression, teacher's college stuff all bundled together for an eventual half-year for me. Thank you so much for all the supportive comments in the past year. Honestly every comment gave me a reason to smile for that week. But without further ado... a chapter!
Teaching History (is Old News)
20 - School Days: Haunted
Immediately, Dumbledore moves past Tom and raises shaking hands up to Potter's head, only to stop, as if fearful that blood will lash out and burn as viciously as lightning would. Below, Potter tenses, waiting for some unnamed threat, before closing his eyes.
"...This can't be... I'm so sorry, Harry, this shouldn't be happening...!"
Potter scrunches his eyes, as if that will lock his eyes forever into his skull. "...I don't understand... are you a good Dumbledore or a bad one? I can't... I can't see it..."
Dumbledore drops his hand, eyes suspiciously wet. "Poppy!" his voice edges against a wobble, "We need to go to St. Mungo's immediately, I fear that Harry's health is being drained by this scar—it's not right, I feel something...!"
Madame Pomphrey doesn't waste time, rushing forward with floo powder and pushing Dumbledore forward with Potter. Floo powder flies up in the air like a dark fog, hiding them both. Potter doesn't even blink, staring bewildered at his surroundings, at Tom, before he's pushed into the fire and vanished elsewhere.
Tom stares at those flames and refuses to tremble.
0
By the end of the day, all of Hogwarts knows that Potter was sent to St. Mungo's, accompanied by Professor Dumbledore. Rumours spread easily, as infectious as the plague. 'Potter's leg got cut off by a troll, Potter was bitten by a werewolf, Potter suffered an allergic reaction after eating the new Halloween pastries, Potter is dying of a rare and terrible disease with only two days to live.'
The person who distastefully declares that rumour (Malfoy) gets punched in the face by a tearful Longbottom not long after.
"You don't just joke about people's lives like that, you tosser!" Longbottom had uncharacteristically roared, before launching himself at Malfoy's neck. The fight resulted in broken noses, bruises, and some creative curses that resulted in immediate hair loss. Impressive, for Longbottom.
Tom, however, continues his routine as usual. Potter's condition has no bearing on his life, his work, the way he interacts with others. Only Longbottom and Myrtle Warren know that Potter and Tom interacted before Hogwarts but they don't dare approach Tom, not after Tom glared harshly at Longbottom for asking about Potter.
As if they need to ask.
Potter will be fine. It's only natural, as Tom's mirror, that Potter will survive.
0
For a whole week, Dumbledore's seat at the table is empty. Tom does not stab his fork into his dinner harder than usual.
He does not dream of red stairs bombarded with flashes of green.
0
Professor Dippet calls Tom into his office. Questions race through Tom's thoughts. No one can prove that he pushed Potter. They can't know. Though Tom just read a minor blurb in his DADA text about the existence of the Mind Arts and frustratingly the text did not expand on what the Mind Arts entail. Does this mean Wizards can invade the mind? What if they know? No, Tom is perfect. They won't know but—
When he sees Potter, looking faded by a ghost, shrinking behind Dumbledore, in Dippet's office, he think, he's back. And then, an impulsive stupid thought, that little shit better have kept his mouth shut.
"Mr. Riddle," Dippet nods, strutting about like a proud peacock. "Excellent, excellent, just in time. Now, I've been hearing very promising things about you, young man, very promising indeed. Model student. Always kind to others. Yes, you'll be perfect."
Dumbledore's lips purse together. "If I may, Armando, perhaps a student from Harry's house would be a more suitable—"
"Nonsense, Albus! The boys are already acquainted from a common background and I'm confident Mr. Riddle would keep up with his studies. If we assign Mr. Potter to the Longbottom boy, I fear we'd be digging Mr. Longbottom's grave come exam time! No, I would like Mr. Riddle to watch over and reacquaint Mr. Potter with the school. Surely, Mr. Potter can take care of himself when he's in the Gryffindor Dormitories?"
"Well…"
"I'm sorry, Professors," Tom decides to interrupt, "but what exactly am I meant to be doing?" Why would Potter need to reacquaint himself with the school…?
At this, Dippet immediately goes quiet and glances at Dumbledore. The other professor looks older than ever.
"Since the… accident," Dumbledore stares at Tom for a moment too long, "Harry has had problems… remembering things."
…Impossible.
"I'm afraid it is," Dumbledore continues. Tom didn't realize he'd said that out loud. "The healers are unsure of what happened but have stated that Harry may return to school, provided he return to St. Mungo's every weekend for a checkup. In the meantime, they suggested that Harry be assigned a student guide to keep him company during school and reacquaint him with his classmates…. Keep him safe."
Tom's mouth feels too dry. "I see." Potter remains hidden behind Dumbledore's robes, as if trying to vanish on the spot or become one with the curtains. Unacceptable. "Of course, I shall accept." This can't be true.
"Excellent," Dippet claps his hands, "then—"
"No, don't come near me!" Potter suddenly shrieks, falling backwards and landing against a propped up mirror.
Dumbledore's face twists into a sickening sadness as he moves towards him, "Harry—"
"Don't touch me, you manipulating fake-you… you! I bet you want to leave me with monsters as a baby so I'll grow attached to you when I'm eleven!"
Any other time, Tom would relish at the look of confusion on Dumbledore's face. But not today.
"Harry, it's me. Albus Dumbledore. And I promise, I won't let anyone hurt you."
But Potter shakes his head, "You want me to go with a Snake-face. I can't go with him. He's all red inside and he'll attack us with green spiders."
Dippet, standing uncomfortably by his desk, laughs nervously. "Not to worry, young Riddle, Mr. Potter is merely… relapsing."
Tom stares at him incredulously. Relapsing? Really?! How unintelligent do they think Tom is?
After a few awkward moments of watching Dumbledore baby Potter with soft words, Dippet tries to cut in. "Now, now, Mr. Potter. It's time to move along and let Mr. Riddle take care of you, hm?"
Potter shivers, "No. I won't go with the Snake-face."
Dippet's eye twitches. "Really, we do not speak to our classmates so disrespectfully."
"He's not a classmate. He's almost a hundred years old and he likes to run cults in his spare time."
"Mr. Potter—"
"…What do you care?" Potter's voice suddenly sounds too quiet, too lacking. "You're a minor character, aren't you?"
For a moment, no one in the office moves.
Then, Dippet's face turns flaming red, "How dare you! The nerve! Detention, Mr. Potter! After your return from your appointment next Saturday!"
"Now, now, Armando, surely you can see that Harry is stressed—"
"You're coddling the boy too much, Albus! A few days back in school and he'll be normal again now—"
"Harry James Potter is fine just the way he is!"
"Are you arguing with your superior, Albus?!"
…Rather than watching his professors continue to make fools out of themselves, Tom steps towards Potter. Tom's reflection in the mirror behind Potter looks menacing and Tom immediately puts on his most pleasant smile.
"Well, then, shall we go?"
Potter buries his face against his knees. Tom can see the scar peeking out behind unruly hair.
("I never liked your birthday presents!" Dippet roars in the background.
"I spent a good five thousand galleons on those matching cufflinks!")
"Potter," Tom grits his teeth, keeping his smile in place. "We should stop disturbing the professors. I'm sure you're quiet shaken. Come along…"
"…st…p….th…t.." comes the mumble.
Tom's eye begins to twitch. "I'm sorry, what?"
"I said, stop acting so nice."
"Don't be silly," Tom smiles wider, trying to resist the urge to storm away. "You've been through quite a shock, of course, I will treat you this way."
Slowly, Potter lifts his head. Those bright green eyes from before look distant and dull. "A horrible idea will eat your brain. You're snake-faced."
Tom narrows his eyes. "I'm Slytherin, yes, I'm pleased you remember…"
"Did you decide to eat a Basilisk?"
"…No, but—"
"They'll make your toes into rainbows. Then your teeth will fall out. Snakes don't have teeth. Wait. Do they? How many?"
"Just shut up, why don't you?!" Tom hisses.
Potter stares at him, wide-eyed and dull dull dull how dare he be dull when—
He smiles. Small and… relieved?
"There. That's you."
Then he walks out of Dippet's office.
0
Frozen for a moment, Tom angrily stalks after him, ignoring Dippet's burning wigs and Dumbledore's sudden shade of neon orange.
"Potter, wait!"
The idiot has the nerve to walk faster.
"Stop right there, you imbecile!"
Potter pauses. "Oh," he says, wary and curious. "You're still here."
Tom wants to explode. "I'm still…? Of course, I'm still here! I'm supposed to be watching you! Didn't you hear a word that Professor Dippet said?" At Potter's unnerving blank stare, Tom shakes his head. "Never mind." He glares down at Potter, wondering if this madness seems feigned or real. It's too lively to be real. Too unnerving.
His practiced smile comes back in place. "Shall I go through what you've missed in the past week?"
Potter just stares at the wall.
"...Well?"
"…You should just be the real Tom Riddle. You're better like that," Potter mutters, deciding to walk along the broken cracks on the floors.
"…I don't know what you mean."
"You'll be less like a Snake-face then."
Tom almost scowls. "You…!" He does not let his hands shake. He does not look into Potter's eyes. "Is your magic is still stable? Are you truly in better health?"
Potter only laughs like a rusted stringed instrument.
0
He does not dream of dots of green, nor bloody lightning bolts dripping from his hands. His steps shatter the glass underneath.
0
"You're going to die a terrible death," he hears Potter frantically telling that Myrtle Warren girl from Ravenclaw, "because of a toilet! You need to stay away from bathrooms!"
"Oh shut your trap, Potter!" Olive Hornby steps in when Warren starts bursting out in tears. "No one believes your nonsense. Do us all a favour and stop speaking!" she snarls self-righteously like the hypocrite she is. After all, Hornby often torments Warren with jabs and barbs about her weight and glasses.
Potter just stares at her, perplexed. "I don't remember you… Did you turn into a rabbit? Are you late?"
The bell for class rings before Hornby can explode. She and Warren rush towards the bathroom, against Potter's warnings. Only Tom remains to watch Potter carefully.
Potter jumps when Tom approaches. "Riddle? You aren't supposed to be here…"
"Yes, I know. I should be in Transfiguration. Like you. But Professor Dippet did assign me to look after you," Tom says as neutrally as possible.
"Oh." Potter looks ready to ask if Professor Dumbledore should be headmaster instead. He seems to be mixing up the identities of some of the teachers lately. If that scar is the source of some sort of magical concussion, Tom will hex someone…
"Well? Come along. I don't like to repeat myself," Tom drags Potter from staring intently at a suit of armor.
He had tried putting on a façade of patience when Potter first returned, but found that wasted time. Potter will shrink away from him and go disturbingly quiet, or worst, Potter will blabber on and on about the stars and how the world will be overrun with a butterfly plague unless Tom makes him get to class. So Tom drops the appearance of decorum and openly scowls and jabs at Potter to move now. If Potter tells anyone about Tom's true personality, Tom doubts anyone will believe him in this state. Besides, Potter and him are the sam—(blood on the stairs and Potter's vacant stare—)
"I don't want to go to Transfigurations! A troll is just going to interrupt the class!"
Tom grits his teeth. "A troll is not going to interrupt the class. Stop your lucid daydreams, they're not real."
Potter narrows his eyes. "Try saying that when you wake up with a snake face one day."
Again, with the snake face accusation. Tom would call Potter prejudiced towards Slytherins if he hadn't seen him speaking amiably with Astoria Greengrass. At least snake is better than ferret. The only positive from this situation is seeing Draco Malfoy's humiliated face whenever Potter calls the Malfoy a ferret.
Tom does not yell. He does not. He is a composed, superior being, with a shattered mirror-half called Harry Potter. The stairs incident caused all this. If it weren't for that incident, weren't for Potter's strange mutterings, Tom would have…
"You don't have to keep doing this," Potter says quietly. "I can get to class on my own. I don't mind being late."
Tom scowls, his grip tightening around Potter's. "It's my job. I'm not one to slack off on my responsibilities."
Potter stops in mid-step.
"What is it now?" Tom demands when Potter refuses to budge from his grip.
Potter stares at him strangely. It feels as if it's the first time Potter has truly looked at him in years. "You… you're really here."
"…Yes. I am. I should really be in class. As should you."
Slowly, Potter starts to smile. "You're very different from the Toms I know."
Tom scowls. Unsurprised. "It's a common name. Likely for common people. Of course, I'm not like them. They're fools. All of them."
Potter's grin becomes disturbingly bright.
"Stop that."
Potter keeps grinning. "Stop what?"
Tom resists the urge to point. "That. That… smile. You don't mean it. So stop."
"Oh." The grin drops, as sudden as a lightning strike. Tom almost wants to throw the grin back on but he knows this Potter more. The quieter one. "…I didn't think you noticed that sort of thing."
"I notice everything," Tom doesn't sneer. He's a genius. Of course, he notices everything.
Potter's stare turns vacant again. "I don't think you can notice everything…"
"I do," Tom snaps, making Potter turn to him. "Especially if it's about you. We're the same, after all," he admits. Denying this connection is what caused the stairs incident. They are the same. Both liars, both orphans, half-bloods, and yet…
The scar is especially bright when Potter looks at him. "Liar."
Tom almost snarls back except he stops at Potter's peculiar smile. It's… something Tom can't describe. Can't quite categorize.
"If we were the same, that would be very boring. We'd have no foil. No story. No, Tom, I like you better this way. We should be different. I want to be different."
Tom… doesn't want to look at that expression on Potter's face anymore.
"Shut up and pick up your pace. We're late enough as it is."
"But isn't a giant spider going to come disrupt our class today?"
"Potter, no." Tom turns back to drag Potter forward by the robes.
"Urgh. You're no fun," Potter sticks his tongue out, looking very much like a scrunched up monkey.
Tom's lips quirk forward. "Well," he admits, "I would pay a galleon to see Dumbledore get attacked by a spider."
"Oh, not that's just mean!" Potter pouts, "I can see you smirking!"
"No one will believe you."
"Mean!"
Tom smiles to himself.
0
During that Transfiguration class, Dumbledore stares at Tom and Potter intensely while they work on the day's spell together. Tom redirects Potter's strange comments back to their work, nodding in approval whenever Potter creates a perfect goblet from the rats they've been assigned.
There, Tom thinks. Potter can be highly skilled when he applies himself. In a few weeks, this memory quirk will fix itself and my mirror will be back.
"Watch out for the pixies!" he hears Potter cry out randomly again. At this point, every first year student will become numb to the cry of 'pixies', 'pixies', from Potter's mouth.
"I must say I'm pleasantly surprised, Tom," Dumbledore says quietly.
Tom twitches. The awful orange colour from Dippet's curse still shines on Dumbledore's nose.
Before Tom can retort, Dumbledore places a hand on his shoulder and… nods.
"You ground him."
Tom freezes.
"…I just hope you don't think you can cure him."