A/N:

lots of soft moments in this chapter! dunno if i like this overall but eh :/


Once the train is a good distance away from the station, Tom tugs the curtains open to let the sunlight in. It takes a moment for their eyes to adjust, and by then any remaining tension has vanished from the compartment.

Annalise is certainly in a better mood. Her handkerchief has been tucked away, and she is making an effort to smile.

Now that the atmosphere has cleared, Septimus starts a new conversation about their summer homework. Harry and Adelaide join in, and so Tom lets them keep the chatter going, choosing instead to withdraw a textbook from his bag.

He's been reading at a more sedate pace this year. Since a great deal of the information gets repeated during classroom sessions, reading ahead too far in some of their classes doesn't save him much effort. It's better to pick and choose what to read, what to memorize. History of Magic, for example. A useless class. Tom plans to fill those hours with his assigned readings to save time, though he doubts Binns would notice if he went missing.

When the sweets trolley at last makes an appearance, it is Adelaide who fishes for her coin purse. She counts out enough for five Chocolate Frogs and two packs of Droobles, then hands one of the packs to her sister. The rest of the chocolate she splits amongst the group.

Tom sets aside his book and accepts the offered treat with a smile even though he's not craving any sugar. He watches as Harry unwraps his own chocolate, the motions slow and hesitant. He'll have to do something about that soon. It won't be good for Harry to feel overly indebted to the Greengrass girls. Harry's attention ought to be focused on Quidditch, not on worrying over unimportant details.

Harry glances over just then, like he can pick up on the fact that Tom is thinking of him. "Aren't you going to open yours?" Harry asks, his manner almost shy.

"Of course." Tom smiles again. He puts more warmth into it this time, because it's Harry he's looking at, and then he tears the package open, pinching the frog between his thumb and forefinger so it won't escape. He snaps off one of the legs; the frog goes still.

"Tom and Harry are going to spend the holidays with me this year," Septimus says into the lull. "It's going to be fun."

"That's nice," Annalise says after swallowing down her own mouthful of chocolate. "A proper Christmas, then?"

Harry shifts a bit. He's fiddling with his empty chocolate wrapper.

Tom only shrugs. Though the workers at Wool's do their best, really it's pitiful compared to the splendour that Hogwarts offers. Winter holidays at the Weasley home will be just as good, if not better, because they'll get to experience the occasion from a full wizarding perspective.

Septimus nods. "Yeah. My dad said maybe he'd ask his cousin for an extra tent, and then just the three of us could bunk in the backyard!"

"We don't have a tent," Annalise says. "But our house is very big. I wish we could have you all over sometime."

Adelaide reaches out to pat her sister's knee. "In the future, perhaps."

Tom snaps off one of the remaining legs of his frog and hands it wordlessly over to Harry, who takes it without comment. Harry likes sweets more, and Tom typically doesn't care one way or the other. Chocolate is nice, a pleasant indulgence, but it's a small trifle on the scale of things Tom wants for himself.

While Harry nibbles on the chocolate, Tom decides to change the subject. "Did you manage to brew the potion?" he asks Septimus.

"Yeah, I did. I have it stowed in my trunk. But Tom, did you mean for it to be such a large batch? I had to borrow my mum's cauldron, and then I had to portion it all out into about a dozen vials."

"Hmm." Tom hadn't thought about the storage. "Do you need more vials for your classes?"

"Not right away, I guess." Septimus frowns a bit. "But if you're not going to use these up any time soon, I'll probably need a few new ones. So the batch is meant to be that big?"

"It is," Tom confirms. "I want to test a few things out, so I need more than one sample."

"Well, you've certainly got enough now." Septimus half-snorts, shaking his head. "I was worried for a while that someone might have caught me brewing it. Then I would have had to explain myself, and I wouldn't even have a real answer for them."

"I can loan you some of my vials," Adelaide says. "Just until Riddle's done with whatever he's doing."

"Me too," Annalise adds quickly. "If you need them. It's probably easier for you to give them back to me than to Adelaide."

"That's right," Adelaide says. "Good thinking."

Annalise smiles brighter, pleased. Then she asks, "What are you going to do with all of that potion, Tom?"

Tom keeps his demeanour bland. "I wanted to experiment with the effects. I'll be practicing on some Transfigured rats to start with."

"Original research at our age," Annalise says, impressed. "That's very impressive. Did you have anything particular in mind?"

Tom shrugs. "Not yet. I suppose I'll make a decision once we've gotten a proper start into the school year."

Harry nudges Tom's foot with his own, questioning. Tom nudges right back, then hands over the rest of his chocolate.

"Bribery," Harry mumbles in a pitch just loud enough to reach Tom's ears, and Tom grins.


When they arrive at Hogsmeade, Tom learns that they won't be taking the boats up to Hogwarts.

"There are carriages," Septimus says. "They'll take us up to the castle."

Adelaide pulls her heavy winter cloak tighter around her shoulders and gazes up at the sky. "I hope that means we'll be warmer this time."

Annalise has pulled gloves on. She is standing next to Adelaide, the two of them huddled so close together that their cloaks seem like one large swath of continuous fabric. "I think they must be, if they're magical carriages."

Tom rubs his hands together as they follow the crowd of students walking over to the slew of black, glossy carriages. There are headlamps hanging on the fronts of each carriage that illuminate the sloping path ahead.

But the horses in front of the carriages look as though they've been pulled from a horror show.

Skeletal face and large, leather-like wings that stretch as tall as the height of the horse itself. Larger than average horses by a noticeable amount, and no meat on the bones, either. Only black, reptilian skin that clings to the ribs, spine, and limbs like an ill-fitting blanket. The eyes are both blank and expressionless, which sends an unwilling shiver down Tom's spine.

Tom glances around. No one else is reacting, so maybe the horses—or whatever they are—are normal?

Then a girl shrieks, high and terrified. A few people in the crowd swear in response, but the curse words are swallowed up by the mutterings of the crowd. Professor Yeung appears, moving swiftly through the sea of students and murmuring words of comfort to a younger girl tucked under her arm.

"It's just the Thestrals!" calls an older student. "Nothing to be afraid of. They won't hurt you!"

"Thestrals?" asks Harry.

"I think they're like horses," says Septimus. "They pull the carriages. But not everyone can see them? I'm not sure exactly why."

"Well, I don't want to see them," Annalise says as she eyes the spot in front of the nearest carriage, where two of the Thestrals are standing. But her gaze passes right over them, focusing instead on the carriage lamps. "People say they look horrid."

One of the Thestrals snorts loudly, its breath steaming in the cold air, and Tom shifts on the spot, unnerved. He doesn't like the feeling he gets when he looks at it. So he shoves it down, buries it away. It's just a strange, magical horse. The fact that he can see it isn't a big deal, it just means he'll have to find out why.

It takes a while for the throng in front of them to clear, but eventually their group clambers onto a free carriage. Tom guides Harry to one side and Septimus follows, leaving the girls to sit opposite.

"No roof up!" Annalise says, twisting her body around towards the back of the carriage. "I wonder if we can put it up ourselves."

Professor Yeung wanders over, having likely heard Annalise's outburst. "Would you prefer the hood, Miss Greengrass?"

"Yes, please," says Adelaide.

With a wave of her wand, Professor Yeung raises the hood of the carriage. The material stretches out over them, closing them in. "Would you like a Warming Charm as well?"

Both of the girls nod. "Sure," Septimus says. "Thank you, professor."

Once they are all suitably comfortable, Professor Yeung sets their carriage rolling off towards Hogwarts. Harry is facing the scenery, watching the formless shapes of their surroundings blur past as they continue on in the dark.

"So do we have a new plan for this year?" Annalise asks. "For studying? Or will we be doing the same thing again?"

"Much of the same," Tom says. "Though I want to prioritize certain classes more than others. Charms, for example. Much more useful than, say, Astronomy."

Adelaide makes a low sound of amusement. "Don't let Professor Mauboisan hear that. She takes her subject very seriously."

"It's about as useful as Divination sounds," Tom replies, unbothered. "People get too caught up in what could be. They forget that, in order to accomplish their goals, they have to put real work in."

"Speaking of Divination, have you all thought about which electives we should take next year?" Septimus asks. "It's kind of odd to think it's going to impact our future so much. Nathaniel says he regrets not taking Care of Magical Creatures, because it would have been an easy 'O' for his OWLs."

"Arithmancy and Ancient Runes," Tom says promptly. "And perhaps Muggle Studies, for an easy class."

"I'd like to take Muggle Studies," says Annalise. "But I'm not sure if our parents would let me."

"You're twins," Septimus points out. "If the schedule works out, maybe you could just switch places."

"That ploy only works in stories, Weasley," says Adelaide. "Besides, I doubt I'd be allowed to take such a class either."

"We could teach you both about Muggle things," Harry says. "If you can't take the class. Since you're already going to be helping us with Wizarding things, Adelaide."

"That may work," Adelaide allows. "I do know the Malfoys have their hands in some Muggle businesses, though they may try to keep it under wraps. Our mother gossips about it. If we can prove it's useful and give reason, I could convince her to let us take the class next year."

"Great," Harry says, cheered. "We could all take it together—you as well, Septimus?"

Septimus shrugs. "I don't see why not. It would be really nice for us all to have a class together."

"Then it's settled," Tom says. "We'll do double lessons together. Wizarding and Muggle cultures."

"It's going to be hard to find the time," Septimus says. "I feel like there's always something that needs doing. Not that I mind or anything, but with Harry and I playing Quidditch and Adelaide in Ravenclaw, our schedules won't match up as well."

"We'll have to wait and see once classes begin," Adelaide tells him. "But surely you won't be busy all weekend?"

"Miss Laine seems perfectly reasonable," Tom says. "I'm sure she won't be overworking you."

"She's such an excellent player," Annalise says. "I wish I was as skilled as she is on a broomstick. She's thinking of going professional after Hogwarts—she said she wants to start a team of only female players someday. Could you imagine that?"

"I bet she could," Septimus agrees. "Everyone at Hogwarts likes her, and her family is fairly prestigious."

The carriage hits a bump, jolting the five of them. "Hope we're close," Annalise says. "I prefer the boats to this. When we're in the boat we can see where we're going."

"We should be arriving soon," Tom says, shifting around Harry to peer outside. It's mostly tall, spindly trees framing the carriage path. "How many new students are there this year?"

"A lot, judging by the platform," Septimus says. "But I think next year's will be even larger. I know a few families have children that will be Hogwarts age."

"The Blacks," Adelaide agrees. "And the Boots. Those are ones I remember."

"More Blacks?" asks Tom.

"Their family tree is very large," Adelaide says. "Most of the couples have multiple children, and they're married into multiple Pureblood houses."

"Strange to think of having so many relatives," Harry says. "I wonder what they do for the holidays."

Adelaide shrugs. "Private events. Select people are invited over. Our mother receives invitations, though our father doesn't like attending them. He's not the social kind."

"Sounds boring," Septimus says. "Like a Slug Club party. No offense," he adds, "because you lot do go to those. But the Christmas one last year was pretty stuffy."

"No offense taken," Harry says. "They can be, sometimes."

The carriage pulls to a stop. Annalise leans out of the carriage, craning her neck. "We're here," she reports. "Thank goodness. I couldn't have handled going over another bump."

Everyone is ushered into the castle and down towards the Great Hall. Most of the students are equal parts sleepy and hungry, and therefore there is little chatter as they find their way to their house table.

In accordance with last year's House Cup results, the table order has changed. Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin, and then Hufflepuff. Though Tom had been disappointed that their house had failed to win last year, he does have the consolation with the fact that they are now able to sit closer to Adelaide without Slytherin house dividing them.

"Hope the Sorting isn't too long," Septimus says. "Lots of students, but maybe less hatstalls?"

They seat themselves. Harry and Tom on one side and Septimus and Annalise on the other. At the Ravenclaw table, Adelaide is next to Nott, though she is close enough that Tom can lean over and get her attention if he wants to.

Once the hall has settled, Headmaster Dippet stands and introduces this year's group of first-year students. A couple dozen children are herded into the room by Professor Dumbledore, and then the student body as a whole is serenaded by the Sorting Hat.

Tom tunes out the process, choosing instead to glance over at the Slytherin table. The cluster of green-adorned students with their proud postures and attentive gazes are mostly fixated on the fuss at the front of the hall, but Tom manages to make eye-contact with one of them. Lestrange, with the long facial features and the dark mop of hair.

Suppressing a scowl, Tom contorts his mouth into a smirk. Not a wide one or a taunting one; just a small, secretive curl of the corner of his lips. A warning, as he had told Harry. Nothing is forgotten, nothing is forgiven, and soon those boys will have an idea of what befalls those who threaten what belongs to him.


"Leo, how was your summer?" Septimus asks as they trudge up to their dorm. They're on a new level this year, the second highest one, but everyone dumps their belongings onto the beds in the same spots as before.

"It was good, thanks. And yours?"

"Busy," says Septimus. "Summer homework, Quidditch practice."

"Oh?" Macmillan interjects. "Are you trying out, Septimus?"

"Yeah. Harry and I are trying out together." Septimus shoots Harry an easy grin. "He's going for Seeker, and I'll be going for Beater."

"Bit skinny for a Beater," says Macmillan, squinting. "But good luck."

"Septimus has very good aim," Tom says idly. "And a strong arm. I wouldn't underestimate him, if I were you."

"You'll both do well," Leo says neutrally. "And we will all go to tryouts to cheer you on, right Eldon?"

"Sure, sure." Macmillan waves it off. "Gryffindor pride, of course! It would be nice if we could win the Cup this year."

Shortly after this, everyone settles in for bed. Harry hovers by the window that looks out over the grounds, and so Tom goes to stand next to him. It's very dark out now, meaning not much can be seen below, but the twinkling stars are visible in the sky above them.

"It's nice to be back," Harry says. "I missed this place."

Tom sets a hand onto Harry's shoulder, feeling the warmth of Harry's body through the cotton pyjamas. "It is," he agrees. "I missed Hogwarts as well."

The familiarity of magic in the walls, the acknowledgement of their peers, the knowledge at his fingertips. Here at Hogwarts, his potential is limitless. Here at Hogwarts, he is truly home.

"It will be a good year, won't it?" Harry asks, turning to Tom for reassurance. Reassurance that Tom is always willing to provide if it keeps those bright eyes looking in his direction.

"Of course," Tom says, squeezing his fingers down, pressing the tips of them gently into Harry's collarbone. "Better than the last, Harry."

Harry smiles, soft and pleased, and Tom thinks of all the lengths he will go to for Harry, to keep that smile in place. "Guess we should go to sleep," Harry says.

Tomorrow is Saturday, meaning they have the weekend to sleep as much as they want. Tom wants to stretch this moment out a little longer. "We could stay here, if we're quiet." It's too early in the year to hang around in the common room; someone will likely catch them if they linger there.

Harry turns his gaze over his shoulder. Their roommates have all pulled their bed hangings shut for the night. "Okay," Harry says, barely above a whisper. He pulls out from under Tom's hand and climbs onto the low windowsill, which is just wide enough for a small child—or two small children, in this case—to sit upon.

Tom does a quick turnabout, snatching his cloak from where he'd draped it over his trunk. Then he joins Harry, seating himself so that they face each other, legs laced together. He tosses the cloak over them like a blanket. The room is warm, comfortably so, but the windowsill is cool, sanded stone beneath his bare feet.

The sit for a while, the hum of Hogwarts magic surrounding them, the view of the grounds—lit only by moonlight, now—a pleasant backdrop to the quiet evening.

"I never want to leave."

Tom understands the sentiment well. He doesn't want to leave Hogwarts, doesn't ever want to go back to Wool's. A fierceness burns in his chest, in his lungs, born not only from his own longing, but from a wish to provide Harry with what he most desires as well.

Someday, Tom will have enough influence within these walls to make it happen. Then they will not have to leave Hogwarts unless they want to. They won't have to leave until they graduate and claim a new place for themselves.

"Someday," Tom says aloud, his ghostly breath fogging the glass. "And someday we will have a place like Hogwarts for our own."


A/N:

we are back at hogwarts! time for another year of dramatics and intrigue.

side note: tom sees the thestrals because of the rabbit he killed at wool's, thus fulfilling the requirements of having 'witnessed a death and accepted its reality'.