Chapter 21
In the days that followed, Tom visited every day for at least a few hours, though usually longer. He did get a few tidbits of information from some of his informants, but nothing too in depth. Mostly, which part of the Law Enforcement holding cells Sirius was being kept in, and who had visited him from the Ministry since he'd been brought there. The only real consolation was that there was no indication he was being mistreated, and that there were no Dementors currently anywhere near the Ministry building.
Ron and Hermione often came as well, and to keep Harry distracted from his worries the group continued to practice the animagus transformation, though rarely for more than a half an hour a day, especially since Harry, Ron, and Hermione, were accustomed to getting most of their instruction on the subject from Sirius.
Tom also spent some time pushing Harry through some more magical exercises, and the two went through a few of Harry's new books together. Tom informed Harry that the Dueling book he'd gotten from Sirius was actually a rather good resource, if not a bit uninventive, and even the Defense book from Neville had some good spells in it, though Tom didn't feel the rest of the book had a lot of value to it.
The Friday before the trial, their Hogwarts letters arrived. Ron and Hermione came to Grimmauld Place right after breakfast, showing up almost immediately after Tom. Hermione was a nervous wreck, and had been for quite a few days leading up to the letters arrival, since it also included their OWL exam results.
Hermione was, apparently, devastated by her results. She'd only gotten an Exceeds Expectations in Defense, and not an Outstanding, like she had in every single one of her other subjects. A failure to get straight O's was apparently cause for despair.
Harry tried to point out that he'd gotten a D in History of Magic, and she had no right complaining, but it didn't provide her any solace.
In contrast to Hermione, Harry's only O was in Defense. Though he did get Exceeds Expectations in Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, and Care of Magical Creatures, leaving him set to take any of those courses the following term.
"Not Potions, though," Ron had corrected Tom when he'd pointed out Harry's eligibility.
"Not Potions? What makes you say that?"
"Snape requires an O on your OWL exams in order to get into his Advanced Potion Making class," Ron said with a rather serene smile on his face. "So I can't take his class next year, even if I wanted to. Which I don't." He grinned over at Harry. "Can you imagine it Harry? A year without Snape breathing down our necks, surrounded in noxious potion fumes."
Tom guffawed. "He requires an O? Merlin, he's really trying to cull out the masses, isn't he? I imagine he has rather small classes if that's his mandate."
"What did you get on your potions OWL? When you took them, I mean?" Ron asked Tom.
"An O," Tom said with a dismissive shrug.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Guess I should have figured that. You've been making a living brewing potions, so it should have been obvious."
Tom grinned and shrugged.
"What about your other subjects?" Hermione asked, looking to have finally calmed herself down a bit, though she was still gripping her OWL results tighter than was really appropriate.
"You may not want to actually know the answer to that, Hermione," Harry said, giving her a sympathetic smile.
"Why not?" she asked, frowning.
"I got Outstandings on all of my subjects," Tom explained gently.
"Oh," Hermione said in a flat empty tone, as she stared blankly at him before looking down at her sheet again.
Tom chuckled. "Hermione, you truly are a fabulously ridiculous girl. You took the standard subjects, plus several electives, correct? So Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, Charms, and Defense, plus how many others? Arithmancy, Astronomy, Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, and History of Magic? Great Merlin, it's a bloody wonder you got as many O's as you did."
"Yes, but you didn't even take any classes!" she argued.
"I was self-taught, yes, but I didn't sit nearly as many exams as you did, so I only had to prepare for the ones I knew I would take."
"Which exams did you take?" she asked in a small, yet curious tone.
"The standard five, Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, Charms and Defense. But that's it. That's a fairly significant number fewer exams than you prepared for."
She looked slightly appeased by this and finally heaved out a large sigh, seeming to release a large knot of tension from her shoulders and posture.
Ron informed them that his mum wanted to organize a trip to Diagon for that coming weekend, but Harry refused, saying he wanted to wait until after Sirius' trial.
Ron seemed to understand, and agreed. He told Harry that he'd tell his mum to wait.
The group slipped into their new routine, which now included regular games of chess to pass the time. Ron had found a new challenge in Tom. It had begun with Tom standing over Harry's shoulder, making suggestions, during a game between he and Ron. Harry had eventually given up, remarking that he almost never won against Ron. Ron, not wanting to stop yet, had then begged Tom to take Harry's place. By the time Ron and Hermione had left that day, Tom and Ron had a tied score of games won and lost, and Ron had been insisting on more games every day since.
Harry had asked Tom if he was letting Ron win, to which Tom had said Ron had honestly beaten him at least a few times, but that he had thrown a few matches on purpose.
Sunday, the day before Sirius' trial, had felt like one of the longest days Harry had ever experienced. It seemed to drag on forever, and no matter what Tom, Ron, or Hermione did to try and distract him, Harry couldn't sit still. He was completely on edge, oscillating back and forth between hesitant, yet excited hope, and total and utter dread.
"If by some set of abhorrent circumstances, Sirius is sent back to Azkaban, I promise I will personally go in there and break him out," Tom had promised at one point when both Ron and Hermione were a far enough distance away to not overhear them.
Harry had rolled his eyes at him. "No you won't," he spoke quietly. "That would be insanely dangerous and I'd never expect you to do that for Sirius. You don't even like Sirius."
"It would not be even slightly dangerous," Tom brushed him off. "Besides, I could break a few more of the Death Eaters captured during the Ministry attack out while I was at it."
"What? Why?" Harry guffawed.
"Is it so hard to believe that I honestly feel quite bad about them ending up in there?"
"You do realize that every one of them tried their best to kill me and my friends, right?"
"Harry, I tried my very best to kill you for a great many years. Besides, the only reason any of them were there at all is because I ordered them to."
"They didn't have to go. They made that choice."
Tom gave him a flat, unimpressed stare. "You honestly think any of them could have refused and lived?"
Harry huffed and shook his head. "Whatever. It doesn't really matter. The point that it's too dangerous still stands though."
"Harry, it is not even remotely dangerous for me to go to Azkaban prison to get someone out."
Harry gave him a rather dubious look. "Uh, you being really powerful is impressive and all, but a prison filled to the brim with dementors and whatever guards the Ministry has there is still a bit much for one person to deal with all at once, and all on their own. I mean, I guess you probably have a powerful patronus, but —"
"The Dementors have pledged fealty to me. They'd turn on the Ministry guards the instant I showed up."
Harry stared at Tom blankly for a moment before shaking his head. "Wait, what?"
"The Dementors are mine. It was the same last winter when I got the last group I broke out of the prison, out. There was no great battle to break into the prison and get them. I quite literally, took out the human guards and then walked right in to pick out the ones I intended to take with me. It would be no different now."
"How is it that you've —"
"Hey Harry, I'm gonna run back to the Burrow really quick," Hermione's voice cut into their hushed conversation, drawing Harry's attention sharply away from Tom and onto Hermione.
"Huh?"
"I need a book, but it's back at the Burrow. I'm going to Floo there and back, alright?"
"Oh - yeah, fine," Harry said with a shrug.
Hermione's eyes narrowed at him and she glanced back and forth between Tom and Harry. "What are you two whispering about over here anyway?"
"Nothing," Harry said, too quickly, earning him a suspicious look from Hermione.
Tom smirked. "Dirty bedroom talk."
"Tom!" Harry exclaimed, causing Tom to burst out laughing.
Hermione's face went a bit red, but she smiled and laughed at Harry's reaction before rolling her eyes skyward and shaking her head. "You two…" she chuckled. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
As Hermione left the room, Harry turned back to Tom. "Don't think I've forgotten about that dementor business," he said in a hushed voice.
But before anything further could be discussed, Ron came over and threw himself down onto one of the armchairs and heaved a great tired sigh.
"Great Merlin, it's exhausting having just Hermione around so much. I really do wish you could just come stay at the Burrow a bit," he complained in an exaggerated whine. "I was expecting you to be coming and staying too, you know."
"I'm surprised she's staying for the whole rest of the summer," Tom commented. "You'd think she'd want to take advantage of what little time she has away from Hogwarts to actually spend some time with her parents."
Ron shrugged. "She says it's too hard to deal with them anymore. Too much stuff they don't understand or know about. I, er… think she hasn't really been too clear with them on some of the stuff going on in our world, if you know what i mean."
"You mean she has probably neglected to mention Death Eater attacks on government buildings, and abusive power-mad professors with torture devices disguised as quills?" Tom said in a vaguely sarcastic tone.
"Er, yeah," Ron said with a sheepish grin. "That and a lot more."
Harry frowned. "You think she's been lying to her parents?"
"Well, if you list out the dangerous stuff, it sounds like we're all running for our lives all the time, but really, it's just a couple things each year, and normal stuff the rest. Well… except for Umbridge. That was pretty much all year," Ron grimaced. "But to a pair of muggle's the danger we've managed to run into would probably be really scary. Hermione said if she'd told them even half of the stuff we've gotten into over the years, they would have pulled her from Hogwarts ages ago."
"Seems perfectly reasonable to me," Tom said with a shrug.
"That they'd pull Hermione from Hogwarts?" Harry exclaimed.
"No, that she'd be hiding things from them. That's not to say she hasn't been in an unreasonable amount of danger, but learning to master magic is worth the danger."
"Yeah… yeah it is," Harry said in a quiet voice.
—
Later that evening, after Ron and Hermione had returned to the Burrow and Tom had left to return to his cottage, Harry found himself sitting in the drawing room, reluctantly reading a book to distract himself, while Remus sat nearby reading something and occasionally making notes in a notebook. He'd been making an extra effort to keep Harry company since Sirius had turned himself into the Ministry. Harry wasn't sure if it was just out of concern, and to keep Harry from getting lonely, or if it was really just to keep an eye on Harry and make sure he didn't do something reckless like try to sneak off to the Ministry to pay Sirius a visit.
Whatever the real reason behind it was, Harry had to admit he was grateful for the company. Tom would be back, later that night, but that was still several hours away.
Just as Harry was about to set the book down out of boredom and frustration, the front bell sounded throughout the old victorian townhouse. Harry and Remus shared a questioning look. Harry shrugged at Remus who hummed curiously and stood up to go investigate. Harry followed and the two were halfway down the stairs to the ground floor when they saw that Kreacher was opening the front door and glaring suspiciously at Albus Dumbledore, standing on the front landing.
"Albus," Remus remarked in surprise as he reached the floor and went over to greet the wizened old wizard.
Remus' greeting wasn't nearly as genial as it might have once been, but he did a better job of hiding any wariness than Sirius had. Now, with them standing face-to-face, you would never really guess that Remus now distrusted the man who he had trusted and relied upon for so many years.
"Is something the matter?" Remus asked in a worried tone. Harry came to stand beside him and his mind instantly flew to Sirius and a hundred different scenarios of disaster.
"No, no. Nothing's wrong. Rather, I was wondering if I could possibly borrow Mr. Potter for a brief trip?" Dumbledore looked down at Harry with a playful question in his twinkling blue eyes.
Harry had to fight hard not to scowl at the man.
"Borrow, for what?" Harry asked cautiously.
"Well, I have lost count of the number of times I have said this in recent years, but we are, once again, one member of staff short. I was hoping to bring you with me while I attempt to persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts."
Harry frowned in confusion. "What do you need me for?"
"Oh, I think we'll find a use for you," said Dumbledore vaguely
"No, really. Why would my being there make him come back to Hogwarts?" Harry asked dubiously.
"Ah, well, he has a tendency to be drawn to people of… interest."
"Are we talking about Slughorn?" Remus asked, surprised.
"Ah, yes we are," Dumbledore confirmed with a genial smile.
"Ah… I see why you think Harry being there would catch his eye," Remus said with a clipped snort.
Harry frowned, looking back at Remus with an unspoken question in his eyes.
"Horace Slughorn is the sort of man who likes to make himself feel important by being able to say he knows important people," Remus explained to Harry. "He would like nothing more than to be able to tell people he taught the Boy-Who-Lived how to do this, or that."
Harry grimaced and rolled his eyes. "Oh," he said, unimpressed.
"It would be of great assistance if you would be willing to help me with this, Harry. I've tried to convince Horace on my own, but he's quite firm in his insistence on continuing his retirement."
"But you need a teacher to fill the hole at Hogwarts," Harry concluded dryly. He sighed heavily and shrugged. "Fine, yeah. How long will it take? I've got to get to bed early tonight since Sirius' trial is tomorrow."
"Completely understandable. It shouldn't take too awful long. I promise to have you back within the hour."
They went into the back garden of Grimmauld Place and Dumbledore Apparated the pair of them to what appeared to be a deserted village square, in the center of which stood an old war memorial and a few benches.
After a quick word to Harry about keeping his wand ready, Dumbledore led Harry down the street at a brisk pace past an empty inn and a few houses.
Harry couldn't help but wonder if this wasn't really a ruse, and Dumbledore was just leading him into another trap in hopes of Harry ending up dead. He suspected he was being overly paranoid, but he couldn't help the worry being there. Harry fingered the watch on his left wrist and wondered if he should activate it, just to be safe. Deciding that in this case, caution was probably better than regret, Harry pushed the button that would send sound to Tom's watch, but not receive.
"Er — where exactly are we?" Harry asked, figuring that would be the first and most useful bit of information for Tom, if by chance, something did go wrong.
"This, Harry, is the charming village of Budleigh Babberton."
"And this friend of yours lives here?"
"He does at the moment," Dumbledore said vaguely with a cheerful nod. "So tell me, Harry, your scar . . . has it been hurting at all?"
Harry raised a hand unconsciously to his forehead and rubbed the lightning-shaped mark. He wondered what it might mean to Dumbledore if Harry answered one way or the other, but opted to just answer truthfully, since Dumbledore had a greater chance of noting something being off if Harry lied too much.
"Er, no sir."
"Do you recall what the last time it bothered you was?"
"The Ministry, I suppose," Harry said and looked up to Dumbledore to find he was wearing a rather self-satisfied expression.
"I had hoped as much. I suspect that Lord Voldemort has finally realized the dangerous access to his thoughts and feelings you have been enjoying. It appears that he is now employing Occlumency against you."
"Oh…" Harry said, hesitantly. "Er, well I'm not complaining," he concluded quickly a moment later.
They turned left and proceeded down a narrow street, lined with houses.
"Um, so I saw in the Daily Prophet that the final vote in the Wizengamot to determine Fudge's replacement will be held next Wednesday," Harry said, trying to fill the silence, more than anything else. "It said it's down between Madam Bones and Scrimgeour."
"Ah, yes, that is correct. I suspect that it's eminent date might also be part of why Rufus Scrimgeour was so insistent on squeezing in Peter Pettigrew and Sirius' trial, as soon as he has."
"Oh?" Harry asked, mildly confused by that.
"I believe he is hoping to demonstrate his suitability for the position with this action."
"Ah… right," Harry nodded. "Which do you want to be picked?"
"Me? That's an interesting question. They're both decent candidates. Rufus, for example, is certainly a more decisive and forceful personality than Cornelius. "Rufus is a man of action and, having fought Dark wizards for most of his working life, does not underestimate Lord Voldemort. Madam Bones is someone I have held in high regard for a great many years. I have worked closely with her within the Wizengamot, and I am confident that she would focus on the important matters in need of addressing with fewer concerns towards political distractions. She is a woman of integrity, and I consider her a truly great witch. "
"So… do you have a preference?"
"Alas, it is not up to me. Ah - this is the place, Harry, just here…"
They reached the front gate of a house and Dumbledore suddenly stopped dead, causing Harry to nearly walk into him.
"Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear."
Harry followed his gaze up the carefully tended front path and felt his heart sink. The front door was hanging off its hinges.
After a quick glance around the empty street Dumbledore pressed forward. "Wand out and follow me, Harry," he spoke softly.
They made their way into the house and found a scene of utter devastation. A grandfather clock lay splintered at their feet, its face cracked. Cushions lay deflated, feathers oozing from slashes in their sides; fragments of glass and china lay like powder over everything. There even appeared to be blood spattered over the wallpaper.
"Something horrible has happened here…" Dumbledore whispered softly.
Harry's mind whirled with questions, wondering who could have done something like this. If it had been done by Death Eaters, Harry could only assume it had been done against Tom's orders, but Harry couldn't think of any reason that an old retired professor from Hogwarts would warrant the attention of some rogue Death Eaters.
"Do you think they may have dragged him off?" Harry asked.
"I don't think so," said Dumbledore quietly, peering behind an overstuffed armchair lying on its side.
And without warning, Dumbledore swooped, plunging the tip of his wand into the seat of the overstuffed armchair, which yelled, "Ouch!"
"Good evening, Horace," said Dumbledore, straightening up again.
Harry gaped as, what a moment earlier had been a stuffed armchair, was now revealed to be an enormously fat and bald old man with a very large mustache that reminded Harry of a walrus.
"There was no need to stick it in so deeply! That hurt," the man grumbled, rubbing at his stomach and standing up. "What gave it away?" he grunted.
Dumbledore went on to explain that if this had been the work of Death Eaters, they would have left a Dark Mark over the house.
Harry felt terribly bewildered by the whole thing, and how unabashed the man was having been found impersonating an armchair.
The pair then proceeded to stand back-to-back and with a sweeping synchronized movement of each of their wands, put the whole wreck of a room back together. Once that was done, the man's attention turned on Harry, and an interested 'Oho!' came from the man that it was now clear was Horace Slughorn, as he took in the scar upon Harry's forehead.
"So that's how you thought you'd persuade me, is it? Well, the answer's no, Albus."
He pushed past Harry, but Dumbledore did manage to convince him to sit down for a drink, 'For old time's sake'.
The two engaged in a bit of banter and bickering as Dumbledore attempted to convince Slughorn to come to Hogwarts, and Slughorn made excuses about rheumatism, and old age.
" — If you're going to tell me my life would be more peaceful at that pestilential school, you can save your breath, Albus! I might have been in hiding, but some funny rumors have reached me since Dolores Umbridge left! If that's how you treat teachers these days —"
"Professor Umbridge ran afoul of our centaur herd," said Dumbledore. "I think you, Horace, would have known better than to stride into the forest and call a horde of angry centaurs 'filthy half-breeds.'"
"That's what she did, did she?" said Slughorn. "Idiotic woman. Never liked her."
Harry couldn't help but chuckle at that, and this it appeared, was enough to draw attention back to him.
It was at this moment that Dumbledore rather abruptly stood up and asked if he could use the loo.
What followed was a rather lengthy and round-about discussion involving Slughorn's favorites, Harry's mum, and various people that Slughorn knew who still cared about his opinion or would keep him abridged of the latest goings-on in their place of work. But then the man admitted that, having been in hiding as he was, he hadn't had much opportunity to speak with any of these old friends and students anymore.
Harry was a bit surprised to realize the man was once Head of Slytherin House. Their conversation went on for quite a while and Harry did make a conscious effort to do his part in convincing this man that coming back to Hogwarts wouldn't be the same as declaring allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix, and that coming to the school would probably make him safer if anything else, not that Harry really believed it all that much, but the last thing he wanted was for the Ministry to send along another Umbridge, if Dumbledore failed to fill the post himself again.
Dumbledore appeared rather suddenly, noting that he'd gotten wrapped up reading a muggle magazine in the loo, and then telling Harry it was time to leave, as he knew a lost cause when he saw one.
Just as the pair were saying their goodbye's, Slughorn burst out, conceding that he'd take the job after all. He did demand a pay raise, but things seemed to come to a simple enough conclusion after that and Harry and Dumbledore finally left the little house behind and headed back up the street they'd come from.
They apparated back to the rear garden of Grimmauld Place and paused. "If you don't mind, Harry, I'd like a few words with you in private, if I may?" Dumbledore asked.
"Erm, okay," Harry agreed hesitantly.
"We haven't had much of an opportunity to speak, since Sirius' rather unexpected, yet still quite wonderful, return. Do you… think he's doing well?"
"Sirius?" Harry echoed, slightly surprised. "Yeah, he's great."
"That is good to hear. Now… I gather that you have been taking the Daily Prophet over the last two weeks?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"Then you have likely seen that there was been a considerable amount of speculation regarding your adventure in the Hall of Prophecy?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes," he grumbled, thinking about the last few headlines, declaring their suspicions of his role as 'Chosen One'. "All that nonsense to protect the prophecy and now the whole bloody world knows that —"
"No, they do not. The only people who know the contents of the prophecy are standing right here in this garden."
Harry's eyes narrowed and he felt himself glaring slightly at Dumbledore, in response to that statement, so he diverted his eyes to the ground instead.
"It is true, however, that many have guessed, correctly, that Voldemort sent his Death Eaters to steal a prophecy, and that the prophecy concerned you," Dumbledore continued and Harry heaved a breath, pulling himself back together and nodding. "Now, I assume that you have not told anyone what the prophecy said?"
"Er…" Harry began grimacing. "I told Sirius, actually."
"Ah. That was probably for the best. I was actually going to suggest that you ought to reveal the truth to your friends, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. Yes," he continued, when Harry looked startled, "I think they ought to know. You do them a disservice by not confiding something this important to them. But Sirius is also easily included in that group. On a different, though related, subject, it is my wish that you take private lessons with me this year."
At this Harry's intrigue and curiosity perked up, and he also felt his heart rate pickup considerably.
"Private? With you?"
"Yes. I think it is time that I took a greater hand in your education."
"What will you be teaching me?"
"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," said Dumbledore airily. Harry waited a moment, but it quickly became clear that he was not going to elaborate.
Harry did ask if he was going to be forced back into Occlumency lessons with Snape, and much to his relief, he would not. And finally, Dumbledore asked that Harry start to keep his Invisibility Cloak with him, at all times, even when back at Hogwarts, which Harry found rather curious, but certainly not bad advice.
Dumbledore bid Harry goodbye and Harry went back into Grimmauld Place while Dumbledore apparated away.
Remus was in the kitchen, waiting up for Harry. He asked absently if they'd succeeded in getting Slughorn to come back, and Harry told him that they had.
After that, they said goodnight to each other, and Harry went up to his bedroom. Harry entered the room to find Tom sitting cross-legged on his bed.
"Oh, right!" Harry said, reaching down and pushing the button to end the audio transmission of his watch. Tom grinned lightly.
"That was rather unexpected," Tom remarked.
"You're telling me?" Harry said, rolling his eyes and coming over to sit next to Tom on the bed. "Sorry to bug you with that, especially since it didn't end up being anything to worry about."
"Nonsense. I'm glad you did it. I'd hate to think of what could have happened, had the meeting been of a less innocuous nature."
Harry shrugged.
"So… Horace is coming back to Hogwarts," Tom mused curiously, an air of amusement in his tone.
"Do you know him?"
"He was my Head of House, when I was a student, the first time," Tom said with a chuckle.
"Oh. Wow, he's old."
"Curious though…"
"What is?"
"Horace is not a Defense Professor."
Harry frowned. "He's not?"
"No. Horace Slughorn is a Potions Master. If he's coming back to Hogwarts, that would seem to suggest that Severus is finally getting to take up the post of Defense Professor."
Harry groaned miserably. "Ugh, no! That's my best class! I was finally going to be rid of him! I'm not taking Potions this year, I wouldn't have had to deal with him at all!"
Tom chuckled, earning him a mild scowl from Harry. "Actually, with Horace now back as Potions Professor, that Exceeds Expectations you got on your OWL exam should be sufficient to get you into Advanced Potions."
"Oh," Harry said, not sure if he should be happy about this or not.
"It's a shame though, really…"
"What is?"
"That I went and removed the curse on the Defense Post already. It would have been a wonderful way to deal with Severus."
Harry snickered and rolled his eyes.
"I have to admit, I can't help but wonder about Dumbledore's true motive is for recruiting Horace…" Tom mused, thoughtfully.
"Oh?"
"I suspect it's related to my horcruxes."
"What? Why?"
"Horace is the only person I ever spoke to in regards to horcruxes. He's also one of the very few people who know that Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort are the same person."
"Ooh… so is that why he was so paranoid that Death Eaters were out to get him?"
Tom shrugged. "Probably. Although, honestly, before things changed, I probably wouldn't have given him much thought at all, had he remained suitably invisible to me. I only would have spared him any thought had he come to work at Hogwarts, as he has now. So his fears that going to the school would actually put him in greater danger, were honestly well-founded. Not that it means anything now of course."
"Is there anything he could tell Dumbledore that would be dangerous?"
"Hmm… no… no I don't think so. At most he could give Dumbledore a general idea of how many horcruxes I had hoped to make, but that information is meaningless now, since I've been reabsorbing them."
"You don't think there's any risk of him recognizing you, is there?"
Tom shook his head. "No. If Dumbledore didn't recognize me, Horace won't either. The Fidelius charm I used to conceal any old knowledge of what I looked like as a teen, seems to have worked just as I intended. Not to mention that no one has recognized my wand, which was always considered rather identifiable, and I know quite a few Order members would have seen it numerous times during the war, so they would know what it looked like. The spell has clearly worked. I'm confident that Horace won't look at me and see Tom Riddle."
Harry nodded. "Alright. So if you told him about horcruxes, does that mean you two knew each other pretty well?"
"I would hardly put it that way. Honestly, I was rather invisible to him for my first few years at Hogwarts. He had started to acknowledge my academic potential by my third year, but I was still 'that muggleborn boy' in his house. By forth year, however, I began to draw in a lot more attention, and had gained quite a bit of confidence in interacting with my housemates, mostly driven by my discovery of my ancestral connections. My being descended from Slytherin was a secret, so of course, half the students in Slytherin house, and the Slytherin Head of House, knew it. After that he became much more interested in adding me to his collection."
"Dumbledore and Remus both mentioned something about that. What's that mean exactly?"
"Are you familiar with the concept of professional networking?"
Harry gave him a rather dubious look. "Does that sound like something I'd know about?"
Tom chuckled. "Basically, the best way to get ahead in the world is to know the right people. Most times when a business is hiring, the first thing they do is ask the people who already work there if they know anyone that they'd recommend. Word of mouth, and knowing the right people and having them recommend you, will get you ahead in the world ten times over someone who is skilled, but knows no one, or is disliked by everyone. Professional Networking is connecting and forming a net of important and influential people. The more important people you know, the more beneficial this can be to you, and to everyone else in the net. Horace Slughorn was a master of networking.
"Given his position as a Head of House in the leading magical school in all of Britain, it's no wonder he'd have access to many talented people, but his best and strongest skill was his ability to identify and collect those with the most potential to become someone important someday. Either through family connections, personality, or pure talent. He had what he called the 'Slug Club', which would meet regularly for tea and biscuits, or dinners, and even organized dance parties, so that his current slug-club students could mingle and get to meet alumni of the school who had gone out into the world to become successful in their own right.
"Now there's no denying that Horace did this in part because it made him feel incredibly important, and that he himself benefited from the gifts and admiration, of all those important people whose lives he touched, but it's also undeniable that what he did was also a great service to the students he collected. His connections and his recommendations had a great deal of weight to them. Some would say that Horace was talented at finding people who were going to become important, but you could also argue that people who Horace picked became important, in part, because he picked them."
Harry had frowned through most of Tom's talk, just trying to process the whole idea. "Okay, I think I get it. But that doesn't mean I really fancy the idea of being collected."
Tom chuckled. "No, you wouldn't. I'm sure that the whole thing would feel rather superficial and contrived to you. But the Slugclub isn't all politics and mind-games. He collects skilled quidditch players, and talented gobstones players, just as often as he collects transfiguration prodigies, and the children of potions tycoons."
"Hmm," Harry hummed in a vaguely disinterested tone before letting out a long yawn.
"Getting tired?"
"Eh," Harry shrugged.
"Should I let you get some sleep?"
Harry turned to him and gave him a small smile. "No."
"No?"
Harry smirked. "That's right. I said no."
"So…?"
Harry sat up and in one fluid sweeping motion, twisted around and straddled Tom's lap, pinning him against the wall.
Tom chuckled and looked up at Harry. "What's this now?"
"With luck, Sirius is going to be a free man tomorrow. But right now he's not here. And Remus is going out on a mission tonight. He's probably already gone. I don't think we're going to get a better opportunity to be alone…"
"Oho?" Tom responded, grinning cheekily. "It almost sounds to me that you intend to take advantage of me." Tom made a mockingly affronted face before ducking his head and chuckling. Harry laughed as well, but a moment later he stopped and pushed forward, crushing his lips against Tom's.
Tom hummed in slight surprise before moaning in appreciation and pressing up into Harry's kiss. Their tongues danced and Harry ground his hips against Tom's groin, eliciting some wonderful whimpers from him. Harry pulled back, pulling in a deep gasp of air before reaching down and tugging Tom's shirt up from the bottom. Tom sat forward and raised his arms into the air, letting Harry relieve him of the shirt an toss it to the side.
"Oh… yesss…" Harry said, looking down at Tom's bare chest. He pressed his hands against Tom's skin and moved them up and down his sides, feeling the smooth skin beneath his fingers. Tom hummed happily and his eyes lulled partially closed.
Harry scooted back a bit onto Tom's legs and bent down, pressing his mouth to Tom's collarbone and kissing along it before gently biting at the dip of Tom's neck and sucking.
Tom moaned and involuntarily thrust his hips upward, but with Harry shifted lower, there was nothing to press against. Tom whimpered and gasped as Harry continued to kiss his way along Tom's neck and shoulder. Tom forced his heavily lidded eyes open and reached out, grabbing Harry's shirt and pulling it over his head. Harry paused only long enough to let the shirt be removed before going back in, kissing and licking at Tom's chest.
Harry shifted and started to maneuver Tom to turn. Tom followed Harry's lead and soon he'd rotated the lay lengthways on the bed with his head now on Harry's pillow. Harry shifted and went back to straddling Tom's hips, and he almost instantly went back to grinding against Tom with considerable enthusiasm.
Tom's hand grabbed and stroked at Harry's exposed chest and back, and up into Harry's hair, occasionally pulling Harry's face away from his chest and neck and back up so he could kiss him directly. The pair moaned into each other's mouths as they moved and tangled together, pressing skin against skin, and getting lost in the feeling of warmth and desire.
Harry pulled back, panting and leaving Tom gasping for breath. Harry scooted back again, now straddling Tom's lower legs. His eyes trained on Tom's groin for a moment of internal debate before Harry reached out and wrapped his hands along the top of Tom's trousers, over the button fly. Harry's hands stopped there and his eyes went up to meet with Tom's - the unasked question written on his face.
Tom looked torn between enthusiastically nodding, and hesitation. In the end, he gave Harry a small nod and Harry grinned and quickly began to work the buttons open.
Tom raised his hips as Harry began to try and work the pants down, giving Harry easier access, and soon his erect member broke free from the previously confining cotton and Harry paused and just stared at it.
"You're going to make me blush," Tom said in a somewhat breathless tone.
Harry blushed and ducked his head, grinning sheepishly. "I hadn't really gotten a good look at it before."
"Like what you see?" Tom asked cheekily.
Harry chuckled and shrugged bashfully. "Yeah," he whispered, looking back up at Tom through his fringe. "Can I —?"
"You think I'm going to say no to that?" Tom laughed before letting his smile soften. "You can do whatever you want with it Harry. Anything you want with me. I'm yours." Tom pushed himself upward, threaded his fingers into Harry's hair along the back of his head, and pressed their lips together, kissing Harry slowly and deeply.
"Mine," Harry whispered as they parted, a hint of wonder and disbelief in his voice.
"Yours," Tom repeated with determination in his eyes.
"If your mine, then I'm yours," Harry whispered back.
Tom gave Harry a soft smile. "I like that."
Harry pushed forward and they kissed again before Harry pulled back, pushed Tom back down on the bed and shifted down until he was face to face with Tom's groin.
Harry stared at Tom's erect penis for a long moment, just taking in the look of it and what he wanted to do. Curiosity, arousal, and a desire to do to Tom, what Tom had done to Harry, flooded him and gave him the boost his nerves needed to press forward.
Harry took Tom into his mouth, hesitantly at first, unsure exactly what he was doing, and mostly afraid of doing something wrong.
"Oh god," Tom moaned as he threw his head back against the pillow and his hips bucked a bit, uncontrollably.
Harry smiled around Tom's member, encouraged by Tom's reaction, and sucked in his cheeks with greater force before pushing down and trying to get more of the shaft wet and go deeper without gagging.
Tom whimpered and seemed to be fighting to hold himself still. Harry pressed on, loving Tom's small desperate motions and sounds.
Harry bobbed his head up and down, finding confidence with the rhythm and repetition, but mostly from Tom's enthusiasm. Harry's own cock throbbed from lack of attention but Harry continued on, finding himself moaning around Tom's cock, aroused so much just from Tom's reactions.
"Oh god, oh god… oh, guh… uh…" Tom panted, his hands threaded lightly into Harry's hair. "Fuck, Harry… I… God, I want… I…" Tom's head turned from side to side with wanton delirium.
Harry pulled back enough to suck in a deep breath and pause. "What do you want?" he rasped through swollen lips.
"I… I want you… and I want you to fuck me," Tom said, his head tipping up enough that he could meet Harry's eyes. "If you're ready…"
"Oh…" Harry said, feeling a mixture of surprise, excitement, anxiety, and desire, run through him, all at once. "I don't really know…" Harry trailed off, feeling stupid even admitting it. It wasn't like he hadn't thought about it, but he honestly didn't know much about how two guys went about that sort of thing, specifically. Being aware of what it was to 'bugger' someone was not the same as knowing how exactly it was properly done.
"I've never actually been on the receiving end before, actually," Tom admitted, smiling sheepishly. "But I've been on the other end. It's not really all that complicated."
"You've never uh…"
"Bottomed is the term most often used, I believe. You'd be 'top'."
"And you want me to, er… be the top?"
"This time, definitely," Tom said, grinning. "I'd like… I think I'd like a balance. There's no requirement that there has to be permanent roles, set in stone. I was stubborn in my earlier life. I want to be more flexible now. We do what feels good, when we want to do it. But this first time, I definitely want you to top."
"Any particular reason? Not that I'm complaining."
"It'll be a first for both of us. Our first. Your first. Even my first."
Harry smiled softly and smiled. "I like that."
Tom grinned wider. "Me too."
"Er… okay…" Harry pulled in a breath to try and pull together his Gryffindor courage. "I want to. I'm just not sure what to do."
Tom shifted, signaling for Harry to move off him, and then made quick work of completely removing his trousers and pants. Harry hesitated for only a moment, but as soon as Tom reached towards Harry's waist and fingered the button, Harry reached down and began removing his own trousers.
After a few moments of eager yet awkward fumbling, both were naked and back into position on the bed with Tom still on his back and Harry on his knees, straddling Tom's lower legs.
Tom grabbed his trousers and pulling his wand out from where it was loosely tucked into the pocket.
"Now, for muggles, this process is considerably more involved," Tom began. "The muscles down there tend to be rather tight, and getting them to loosen and relax can be a time-intensive process that is still not guaranteed to work for everyone. Plus you also need a great deal of lubricant, which we obviously don't have on hand."
"Er… okay."
"There's a spell I know that both lubricates and acts as a muscle relaxant of sorts. It skips some of the harder work and significantly reduces the chance of pain or injury."
"So it can hurt?"
Tom gave him a small grin and shrugged. "Yes, if the muscles don't relax, it can hurt quite a lot. And without lubricant you can tear the skin down there. That's why the prepwork is so important."
"And you've done that sort of thing before?"
Tom tipped his head in a conceding motion. "A very very long time ago. Fortunately, the last time I engaged in any kind of act like this, I still had enough decency to make use of the spell on my partner. If much more time had passed and I'd still had any interest in such acts, I have no doubt that I would not have bothered…" he looked off to the side with a rather distressed frown on his face. "I probably would have enjoyed their pain," he said quietly before closing his eyes for a moment and taking in a slow breath, as if trying to push the thoughts away. He opened them again and gave Harry a weak smile and shrugged.
"Hey," Harry said gently, reaching out and cupping the side of Tom's face. "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm just glad that at least one of us has some idea what he's doing, because, honestly, I'm a bit terrified.
Tom chuckled and shook his head. "It's fine, Harry. Nothing to be scared of."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"And you won't." Tom held Harry's eyes for a moment until Harry nodded with acknowledgement. "Alright," Tom said, leaning back again, spreading his legs and pointing his wand towards himself at a rather awkward angle. He gave Harry a slightly embarrassed grin. "If I can't manage this at this angle, you might have to do it."
Harry's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything back.
Tom waved his wand and a jet of light shot from the tip towards his bum. A small intake of breath escaped Tom's breaths before a semi-twisted expression.
"Is that it?"
"No, that was just a cleansing spell," Tom shook his head and made another, more complicated gesture with his wand and another light, this one purple in tint, shot from his wand.
Tom gasped and arched a bit off the bed, letting a small strangled moan escape from his throat. "Oh… " he said breathily.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked, worriedly.
"Oh yes… Yes, I'm… good," Tom gasped, an air of surprise in his breathy voice.
Harry arched a single eyebrow and gave Tom a slightly amused grin. "Feels good?"
Tom let himself fall back onto the bed and tossed his wand onto the bedside table before turning his glazed eyes back on Harry. "Surprisingly so."
"Well, that's good, I suppose."
Tom laughed lightly and smiled up at Harry.
"So erm… what… do I do?" Harry asked, fidgeting slightly with obvious nerves.
Tom's grin turned predatory and he pushed himself up so he was sitting, then scooted back along the bed, pushed himself up on his knees and started to prowl towards and over Harry, who bent back and let Tom place himself above Harry.
"What —" Harry began, but he was cut off suddenly by Tom's body moving forward and his lips crashing against Harry's. Harry let out a small, strangled moan, surprised by Tom's intensity. Then Tom's hand wrapped around Harry's cock and began stroking him. Harry moaned into Tom's mouth again, and Tom moaned right back. The two began to move together, tangling together and thrusting against each other, searching for friction.
Harry's cock was at full attention after only a few moments of this and Tom pulled back, making Harry whimper slightly in surprise. Any disappointment vanished a second later to be replaced with a startled cry as Tom swiftly moved down and took Harry's member into his mouth.
"Oh, shit," Harry exclaimed with a gasp. A few jerky thrusts escaped his body involuntarily before Harry managed to hold himself still while Tom bobbed up and down a few times, getting Harry's cock thoroughly coated in his own saliva.
And then Tom pulled back away from Harry, scooted a bit and laid onto his back. Harry blinked at him in a daze before his mind seemed to catch up with things.
"Come here," Tom said, his voice rough with need.
Harry moved to his knees and climbed up further until he was placed between Tom's spread legs. Tom maneuvered some more, grabbing at Harry's shoulders and sides and bending himself nearly in half with his knees up high. Harry couldn't help but stare down at the sight of Tom exposed so completely. His eyes fell upon Tom's cock, and then down to the small pink pucker below. His heart was racing and his head was flooded with desire and fear.
"Harry —" Tom's voice seemed distant, and Harry's head was swimming with thoughts and feelings and fears. "Harry —"
"Huh?" Harry said, pulled suddenly out of his stunned stupor, to realize he'd been kneeling there, virtually motionless for at least a minute.
Tom smiled up at him, understandingly. He reached up with his right hand and cupped the side of Harry's face for a moment before combing his fingers through Harry's short hair at the side of his head. "I love you."
A short, startled, breath escaped Harry's chest. "Whuh?" he said, inarticulately.
Tom pulled Harry's face down while bending up and kissed him passionately. Harry returned it, whimpering into Tom's open mouth. Tom pulled back, just enough to turn his face to the side and whisper into Harry's ear. "Make love to me, Harry."
A shuddering breath left Harry's lips and he pulled back enough to look into Tom's eyes. So much was said in those eyes. Tom was afraid too; but also confident. And trusting. Tom, who never trusted anyone in his whole life, was looking at Harry with absolute trust.
Harry's fears seemed to vanish and he finally shifted himself until the head of his cock was pressing against the small pink pucker of Tom's bum. Tom moaned and his head lulled back onto the bed as he evened his breathing in apparent preparation.
Harry slowly pressed forward and found less resistance than he'd expected.
"O-ooh…" Harry said in a startled, shuddering tone, his own head falling forward so that his forehead pressed against Tom's chest. It was so tight. So warm. "Oh god," Harry rasped.
Tom groaned as well, and his hips shifted, pushing forward and bringing Harry in deeper, faster.
Harry pulled back and thrust forward a few more times in short bursts, getting a little deeper each time until he felt he had managed to get as deep as he could. Tom was panting in short staccato bursts. He whimpered and squirmed against Harry, and his sphincter muscles contracted around Harry's cock while his hips moved, clearly trying to get Harry to move.
"Hold still," Harry rasped urgently. Tom whimpered. "Oh god… I don't think I'm gonna… I don't think I can last," Harry admitted as he fought desperately against his inexperienced body's inclination to pop far too soon for his own liking.
"Nnnn… ugh…" Tom let out a vaguely frustrated groan and reached blindly to the side with his hand, summoning his wand into it with a simple flick of his wrist. A moment later he had his wand tip pressed against Harry's side and murmured some quiet words before tossing the wand away again.
"Wha - what'd you just do?"
"You'll last longer. Now move!" he groaned, desperation dripping from his words.
Harry didn't feel any different, but slowly pulled back before thrusting back in again. He moaned as he was flooded with the pleasure of the act, but it wasn't like the imminent train wreck he'd sensed coming, only moments before. It was still there, but it was further away. He pulled back and pressed forward again, and again. Tom grunted out, in a deep, rough voice, and angled his hips and pressed up to meet each of Harry's thrusts. The two fell into a perfect rhythm, moving against and with each other's bodies. Melded together and slicked with sweat. Desperate cries of pleasure and need, being pumped out like a beating heart, pushing blood through their veins.
Harry could feel that glorious climax building again, but it wasn't something to run from now, but something to race towards. Somewhere in the delirium of his mind, he registered that he wanted to make sure Tom came too. Though it was difficult, Harry shifted his weight enough that he removed his right hand from where it had been supporting his own body and reached between them, grabbing Tom's dick and trying to stroke it in a matching pace, but it was awkward and difficult.
Tom whined slightly and reached between them, pushing Harry's hand aside and taking over.
"Get us there on your own," he rasped before kissing Harry on the lips and letting his head fall back again. "I want to come with you. I feel… you. Just… ugh… uhnn… Harry —" he panted, incoherently, but Harry got enough of the gist and focused on getting their movements back into a solid rhythm.
Harry focused on his own climax as he felt it coming faster and faster. Closer and closer. The heat and the tight twisting pleasure deep in his balls. The need to get closer.
"Gods… oh Tom…" Harry groaned before bending down and capturing Tom's lips and giving a few more tight thrusts in. "I love you," he rasped out before grunting with the last thrust before the waves crashed over him and his entire world exploded for several brief but amazing moments. His body shook with waves of pleasure and he convulsed against Tom, finally becoming aware that Tom was moaning and shaking against him as well. Wet warmth hit Harry's stomach as the jerking of Tom's hand that had been hitting Harry's gut for the last few minutes, came to a stop and Tom's body seemed to melt back into the mattress with a satisfied sigh.
Harry collapsed forward, managing to push himself to one side, so he wouldn't crush the other.
Several moments of heavy panting followed. Then Tom's lips pressed against Harry's forehead along with a very satisfied humming sound and a happy sigh.
A moment later, Tom twisted and shifted onto his side, pushing himself up onto his shoulder, and looking over at Harry, laying beside him. Tom leaned down, capturing Harry's lips again and cupping the side of his head. Harry smiled into Tom's lips and then looked up at him happily when Tom pulled back again.
"I've never loved anyone, you know. I don't think I even knew what love really was, even before… I managed to destroy everything. I… I didn't trust anyone enough to… to love them. But you…"
Harry reached over and pressed his index finger along Tom's lips, stopping him.
"Just kiss me. And stay with me."
"All night?"
Harry nodded. Tom smiled softly down and nodded. "Okay." Tom moved down and kissed him again. Long and languid, with gentle caressing hands and tender nips and pecks.
Finally, some light clean-up was performed before Tom summoned Harry's comforter and they pulled it over the pair of them and fell asleep.
— —