"The first date back is always the toughest, Harry."
"You only had one date. How do you know it's not going to get worse?
"How much worse can it get than finishing dinner, having him reach over, pull a hair out of my head and start flossing with it at the table?"
"We're talking dream date compared to my horror."
- When Harry Met Sally
January, 1943
Harry always appreciated Hogsmeade weekends, but she did have to say, the ones in the middle of winter were a little less pleasant. Oh, the village itself was wonderful as always, and with the Christmas lighting and genuine snow was filled with decorative cheer, but it was very cold.
Hating herself a little bit, Harry couldn't help but feel grateful to Riddle for the wardrobe he made her. Before Christmas, without the heavier jacket and thicker tights he'd made, she'd have frozen to death.
Of course, this did mean that she was wearing clothes that Tom Riddle had given her, made out of love if the other Tom Riddle was to be believed, on her date with Alphard Black.
Who was probably gay and in an alternate timeline had been the one giving Riddle clothes made out of love.
But Harry wasn't thinking about that, instead, she smiled up at Alphard who smiled pleasantly back down at her. They slowed to a halt while the other students rushed ahead, letting them sprint for the candy and joke shops, and letting the crowd thin to a bearable density.
So far, there was no sign of Riddle. Harry would have thought he'd be tailing her immediately, but she hadn't seen him since breakfast. She wasn't sure if that should make her more or less worried about whatever it was he had up his sleeve.
She didn't necessarily want him here but a Riddle out of sight was probably worse.
"So, where shall we go first?" Alphard asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.
Harry opened her mouth only to abruptly close it.
Oh no.
Harry had asked him to Hogsmeade because, well, it was the done thing. You couldn't actually go anywhere in Hogwarts itself, just the grounds, and there wasn't much to do that was all that romantic.
Harry didn't really ask what most did on their dates, Hermione had taken Viktor to the Yule Ball but so far as Harry knew had never really gone on dates with him, but the general feeling she got was that, during much of the school year, the only thing you could really do while dating was snog in broom closets.
Not exactly the classiest thing in the world. Certainly not first date material.
Which, of course, was why Hogsmeade was great. There were restaurants, well, there was a pub, that creepy dive Hermione had them go to for the DA meeting, and then whatever the hell Madame Puddifoot's even was.
But there were places to eat.
And a nice, small, town that wasn't Hogwarts.
And candy, must not forget about the candy.
Under normal circumstances, this was all great, Harry loved Hogsmeade. However, under normal circumstances, Harry was loaded.
She'd practically bought out Zonkos and Honeydukes several times over, purchasing supplies for herself, Ron, and Hermione. She picked up the tab for the three of them in the Three Broomsticks whenever they decided to splurge on appetizers.
When in the wizarding world, money had never been an object.
Harry hadn't been to Hogsmeade so far this year because, well, she was dirt poor. In asking Alphard on a date in Hogsmeade she had apparently forgotten that she was dirt poor. Not just dirt poor, but actually impoverished, she had nothing. There was no money left.
Not a single knut.
Harry laughed awkwardly, "It's such a nice day out, don't you think? Why don't we walk to the pond?"
It was not a nice day out.
It was, in fact, colder than hell.
Alphard was staring at her dumbly, he was dressed in several layers just as she was, but he didn't look exactly warm.
"Maybe they'll have ice skating?" Harry asked, because they did that, right? Oh, wait, that also cost money.
Why did everything cost money?
"Maybe there will be ducks," Harry said, well aware that the ducks, geese, and swans would not be back for several months.
"Harry," Alphard said, only to pause awkwardly. He took a breath and tried again, "Harry, you do realize that it's… custom, on a date, that the man pays for everything, don't you?"
Harry blinked, blinked again, then pointed out, "But I asked you on the date."
"That doesn't matter," he said, as if that made any sense.
Which, no, it didn't.
"Wait," Harry said, holding up a hand to stop him, "But that means I could demand you take me to a restaurant where the plates are made of gold, where the food is made of gold, and I'd make you pay the bill."
He smiled at her fondly, looking very amused by her terribly expensive hypothetical date, "Yes, that is how it works."
"But that's—"
"I'll pay, Harry," he said with a smile, looking far too cheerful for Harry essentially grifting him, "I'm more than happy to pay for the date."
"No," Harry balked.
"No?"
"No!" Harry retorted, backing up from him a step and flailing her arms madly, "That's just—that's just free loading! That's like, it's taking advantage of you, it's terrible!"
He blinked, looked very confused, "It's hardly taking advantage of me, Harry, I accepted with the expectation that I—"
"No, it's wrong, I invited you on the date, I picked the location, and therefore I'm the one who should be paying," Harry said, pounding her fist into her hand, as if to make her words final.
Alphard, again, simply stared, and then said, "I see, and dare I ask—"
"Not a single knut," Harry said before he could even finish.
A cold gust tore through Hogsmeade right then, chilling Harry to the bone. She pretended not to even notice. If she pretended like it was late spring, the last Hogsmeade weekend, then it would be.
"Well, that does make this a bit more complicated," Alphard said after a pause, "Are you quite sure you don't—"
"Yes," Harry said.
He turned towards the small, dirt, path that led just outside the village to the duck pond, "Well, then, I guess we'd best see about those birds."
All the time as they walked, completely alone on the road as everyone else had chosen the saner option of staying indoors, Harry felt very stupid and very poor.
God, what had she been thinking?
A date in Hogsmeade, great idea Harry, that was a stellar one, wasn't it? You were so consumed about stupid, older, sexy Tom Riddle in your head, and then whether or not Alphard was gay, that you totally forgot about everything else.
And Merlin, what was she going to do about summer? Last summer, she'd lived in a box on the side of the road and gone dumpster diving for her meals. She'd washed dishes and swept store fronts in Diagon Alley for a few meager funds.
Was she really going to have to do that again?
Given she had just as much money she had when started, yes, she was, and she'd better hope the places she worked took her back this summer too.
And if she was stuck here, then was that her next summer too? And what about if she didn't get a job after graduating? What if she didn't raise those Potions scores? She might actually end up homeless, just as Tom Riddle prophesied in her tutoring sessions.
It suddenly struck her that she might have no choice but to try and track down this dark lord fellow and try to make her way back to the future.
Otherwise, Harry might starve to death.
Harry forced herself back to the present, leaving future problems for Future Harry, and glanced sheepishly at Alphard, who was looking very cold but not entirely miserable.
They made it to the duck pond. Unsurprisingly, there were no ducks nor birds of any kind. Surprisingly, there was no ice skating either, even though the pond was thickly frozen over. Likely, it was too cold to attract any customers.
"Sorry," Harry said as they sat on a bench overlooking the water, "I know this probably isn't what you expected but—"
"No, it's quite alright," Alphard said with a small laugh, "It's actually a bit refreshing. I mean, in retrospect I'm not surprised, but I didn't expect anyone to be this disinterested in my money."
He looked awkward, the slightest bit rueful, and perhaps a bit cynical as he explained, "Most people, Harry, would invite me on a date with the expectation that I could pay for things they would otherwise not be able to afford."
"Oh," Harry said, not sure what else to say to that.
"It's alright," Alphard said in a tone that implied it was anything but alright, "I'm a Black and that's how these things go. That is what it means to be from one of the sacred twenty-eight."
"Well, that's," Harry paused, searching for the word, and finally settled on, "Depressing."
"No," he reassured her, "It's simply the way things are. Hardly something I can complain about, having too much money. Certainly not to someone who, well, does know poverty."
It took Harry a second to realize that he was, in fact, referring to her. Because Harry wasn't just poor, she was destitute and homeless.
Harry was the face of poverty in 1942.
"Right," Harry said lamely, for want of something to say, "Does that happen often? I mean, the being asked on dates and—"
"No," he said, "No, this is actually the first date I've ever been on."
Oh, Sweet Merlin.
This—this was his first date? Harry inviting him to a frozen duck pond because she was too cheap and poor to pay for tea? She felt if anything more embarrassed.
Forget Tom Riddle springing out of the bushes to ruin her date, Harry was doing a bang-up job herself.
Still, this couldn't be a shock to him. He didn't look all that surprised. When you go on a date with Harry Potter, this is what happens to you. Yet, even then, he'd not only agreed to go but prompted her to ask…
"Hey Alphard, I know I didn't really catch on until a few days ago but—why do you like me anyways?"
Before he could open his mouth and say anything she added, "I mean, you know firsthand that I'm not that bright. All I do is vent to you about Riddle and I—well, I have no money. I just, well, I'm not sure I would be dating me in your place."
He tapped her lightly on the head with a hand, a small admonishment, "You really do have the emotional intelligence of a thimble."
"Hey!" Harry spat.
"Remember Slughorn's Halloween party?" he asked, "Before Riddle's famous meltdown."
"Uh—" Harry tried and failed to wrack her memory, she'd talked with Alphard, yes, but the thing she most remembered from it was Tom Riddle absolutely losing his shit in front of everybody.
"I told you then why I liked you," Black answered, "At least, I told you why I wanted to be friends with you. In truth, I did like you back then, I probably would have liked you from the beginning if I'd only had the wherewithal to see it."
Right, Harry was remembering now, he'd said something about her being courageous and genuine. It was—she wasn't sure she believed that. Her very existence in 1942 was a lie, after all, but he wasn't the only one to have said it either.
She'd heard the same thing from both Tom Riddles now.
"It's only fools, Harry, who don't see the best in you," he said with a smile, "Nothing's changed from Slughorn's party."
"Even when your first date with me is sitting in the cold staring at nothing?" Harry asked.
"Even then," Alphard said, though his smile faltered as another cold gust blew through, "Though, Harry, I think I'm going to beat you to the punch and insist that for Valentine's Day, if you'd like, we do something indoors, with food, that I will pay for."
Valentine's Day, that was a month from now that was…
He was thinking that far ahead? He assumed that this date would go that well? Or, maybe, he'd somehow decided it didn't matter how this date went or the next went. It was as if the date, to him, wasn't really a test to see that they were compatible but more—an experience they should share together.
Harry… wasn't sure how to feel about that.
A part of her felt a little guilty, a little uncomfortable, that most of what had prompted her into accepting this date in the first place hadn't been centered on Alphard. She'd gone on this date to avoid thinking about Tom Riddle, in the hopes that she could forget about Tom Riddle and that—
The way he talked about her, looked at her, he didn't deserve that.
On the other hand, maybe this could work.
Alphard might like guys, alright, he might really like guys, but that didn't mean it couldn't work with her. If that wasn't the face of a guy who liked her then Harry would eat her hat.
And when did Tom Riddle ever know what he was talking about?
True, the older one hadn't seemed to be lying to her so far and had always been there for her no matter her crazy scheme, but that didn't mean he knew everything. He'd even admitted it himself; he was just basing this on his own experiences in another timeline.
Granted, he'd had some mind scarring evidence, but it wasn't definitive.
Maybe that other Alphard had just never found the right woman, or something, even though that felt like a ridiculous and self-centered thing to think.
She did agree that she couldn't see him with your typical pureblood heiress that his family would have wanted him to marry.
And maybe, if he really liked her, then in time she could really like him. She was already friends with him, why shouldn't her feelings for him turn into something more? If she could blurt out that she fancied the Riddle in her brain after only a few weeks of knowing him then she could develop feelings for Alphard.
And she hadn't known she fancied the Riddle in her head until she said it.
Maybe she really did already fancy Alphard.
He was, after all, very good looking.
That good feeling, of course, was why Orion Black had to show up at precisely that moment.
"Finally found you."
Alphard and Harry both turned their heads to see Orion Black smirking at them, his wand already in hand.
Oh, right, Riddle had said something about this, hadn't he? It was coming back to Harry now, Riddle casually dropping at dinner a few days earlier that Orion Black planned to ambush her or something.
Harry hadn't taken him seriously and had forgotten all about it.
Apparently, he hadn't been kidding.
"I see you at least have enough shame to keep out of sight," Orion said, sniffing at their empty surroundings, "Kind of you, Alphard, to not stain the family name in public."
"Actually," Harry piped up, ears red with embarrassment as she hastily defended Alphard's honor, "It's because I'm poor."
She then realized what that sounded like.
"Wait—no, it's not because I'm poor, it's because I invited him on the date, but I'm poor, so I can't pay for anything so—It's not his fault."
Both Alphard and Orion were staring at her.
"You were saying something?" Harry asked hastily.
"Not to you, mudblood," Orion sneered, before returning his attention to Alphard, "Alphard, you know better, you know I can't let you be seen in public with this trash. You know that I have to put her in her place."
"Orion, don't you dare—" Alphard started, fumbling for his wand, but Orion didn't give him a chance.
"You only have yourself to blame, and in time, you'll thank me. But in the meantime, you must know, that I have to teach the mudblood a lesson about her betters."
With that, Orion sent the first spell straight towards their heads.
Harry hastily knocked both her and Alphard off the bench and to the ground. Harry rolled to her feet, wand in hand, and instinctively moved into a more mobile stance.
Which was a good thing as Orion didn't hesitate to let loose several jinxes. And they were nasty ones too, not illegal but certainly questionable. Harry realized, even as she dodged, that any one of these would put her in the hospital wing for a week. And if she wasn't taken back to Hogwarts promptly then who knew what they might do to her.
He wasn't playing around.
"Orion!" Alphard shouted, scrambling up off the ground and pointing his wand at his cousin. However, he wasn't as quick on the draw, and was quickly incapacitated by Orion's "Incarceus"
"Just sit and watch, Alfie," Orion bit out between spells.
What he was supposed to sit and watch was obvious, Harry being cursed beyond recognition, and reminded not to date Alphard Black.
It might have worked too, if Harry hadn't been facing off with dark wizards since she was eleven.
Harry quickly cast a shield charm and sent out her good old disarming spell. Only, before it could hit, something else hit Orion Black instead. Orion was sent flying by a red stunner, straight across the frozen pond and into a tree on the other side.
He fell to the ground, a pile of snow falling off the tree's patches and onto him, where he remained stunned.
Harry slowly turned to face the interloper.
Who, to no one's surprised, was Tom Riddle.
Dressed smartly, with his Slytherin scarf and a nice dark winter jacket, Tom Riddle wordlessly banished the bonds holding Alphard captive, walked over to him, and extended a hand with his most brilliantly charming and beautiful smile.
"Are you alright?" Riddle asked, his eyes alight with seemingly genuine concern, and looking at Alphard as if there was nowhere else he'd rather look in the world.
Oh, oh that bastard.
Harry looked as if she dearly wished to murder him. Her fingers, clenching her wand, were bone white and on her face was perhaps the most furious expression he'd ever seen there. Her face was a very striking shade of vermillion, blending in quite nicely with her crimson winter cloak.
It seemed that Harry knew exactly what he was up to.
Good.
Not surprising, he'd all but announced his intentions to her earlier, but it wasn't meant to be a secret. While she might try to interfere, he doubted she'd be successful. Far better for Harry to be in the know, to not get the wrong idea, as Tom proceeded to woo Alphard Black away from her.
Of course, this would be the first time Tom ever actually tried to woo anyone.
He knew he had admirers, he knew what he looked like, but it'd all been very distant to him. He'd had no interest in a girlfriend let alone time for one and everyone who did seem to like him already did nothing but titter and giggle in his presence.
Harry had once been so very refreshing because she hadn't wanted him in the least.
Funny that.
Regardless, if he were that successful when actively not trying then surely it couldn't be too hard to sweep someone off their feet when he was. Alphard Black might have gotten a peek behind the curtains for a few months, seen Tom at… not his most charming, but such things were easily forgotten for a pretty face.
And as even Harry had admitted, Tom had a very pretty face.
"I'm so sorry," Tom said after he pulled a dazed Alphard to his feet, "I'd warned Harry earlier that Orion would be coming for her, I tried to keep tabs on him, but he slipped away from me."
A blatant lie, of course.
Tom had been tailing Orion, waiting for him to make his move as he inevitably would, but he certainly hadn't lost him. Tom had waited just long enough that Alphard felt he was in serious trouble but before Harry could grind Orion into the dirt.
As it was, he'd nearly missed his window of opportunity, it'd been a very narrow thing that his stunner hit first.
"That's quite alright," Alphard said, brushing snow off his jacket and looking mildly embarrassed by the attention, "Really, I should have known, it's not as if I made it a secret. We were lucky it was only him…"
Next time, it wouldn't be, but Orion had likely wanted to keep this relatively quiet. If he brought Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, LeStrange, or any of the others then what was merely rumor would become undeniable: Alphard was staining the house of Black with reckless abandon.
It was why he had tried to threaten Harry through Tom first, in an ideal world, Tom could have simply made Harry go away without Orion needing to get involved.
Now, of course, Orion would have to try again without admitting to his friends that he'd gotten his ass handed to him by muggleborn Tom Riddle.
Alphard in the meantime seemed to have recovered himself, remembered who he was talking to and his reservations regarding Tom, and gave him a quick, polite, but distant nod, "Thank you, Riddle."
"No, again, I should have come sooner," Tom hastily apologized, doing his best to look chagrinned and concerned, "The thing is I had just as much trouble finding the pair of you as Black did. What are you doing out here anyway?"
"I'm poor," Harry said flatly, looking anything but amused.
He blinked at her, stunned for a moment, which she of course took advantage of by asking, "Right, thanks, Riddle, now don't you have somewhere else to be?"
Oh, Harry, it wasn't going to be that easy to get rid of him.
"I'll be out of your hair in a moment," he said with a charming smile to her, then looking back at Alphard, looking him directly in the eyes, he said, "I—this is hard to say I'm not—I'm not good at apologies but it occurred to me that it's far past time I apologized."
Harry was looking at him like he'd just announced he was pregnant. Alphard was not much better.
"To put it simply, I've been an ass," he said, "For my entire Hogwarts career but especially the past few months."
"—Yes, you have," Harry said numbly, as if she felt the need to fill the empty silence with something, even if that something was completely asinine.
"It didn't really bother me, but—When I heard you two started dating, I, well, I wasn't sure how to take it. I mean, I saw it coming, of course, but it made me reevaluate a few things."
Here he looked at Harry, gave her a small, soft smile (which of course had her shuddering), "I realized that what matters most is that you're happy. Maybe there isn't a place for me in your life, at least not romantically, but if Alphard makes you happy then he's the one you should be dating. You deserve to be happy, both of you, really. I realized that over the past few months, so much of what I've done has put us at odds with each other, all three of us and—I wanted you to know that I'm sorry and for what it's worth you have my blessing."
Here he glanced at Orion's body, still slumped in the snow (where he would remain for several hours until the stunner wore off if Tom had anything to say about it), and in a voice filled with appropriate gravitas he said, "The likes of him won't bother the pair of you again. Not if I have anything to say about it."
"Thanks," Harry said with as little enthusiasm as she could possibly muster.
Alphard was staring at him as if he'd never seen him before in his life.
Of course, Tom hadn't expected it to be that easy, but the seeds were planted and that was what counted.
Tom offered a polite nod of his head, another kind smile, and announced, "And now, with that, I'll take my leave."
Tom turned and walked at a deliberately casual pace, not too fast nor too slow, the pace of a friend who truly wished these two the best and had sacrificed his own happiness for Harry's.
One, two, three—he made it five paces when Alphard called for him.
"Wait, Riddle!"
Tom turned, looked back to see Alphard reaching out for him hesitantly, one hand held up to stop his leaving but also to ward him off. Alphard glanced nervously at Harry, who of course looked as if she was about to combust into flames.
He looked back at Riddle, more certain of his actions, "Would you like to join us for butterbeer? My treat, for both of you."
Harry was visibly dying, no noise came out of her mouth, but it was open in a silent scream of frustrated despair.
Tom flushed and waved his hands dismissively, "Alphard, I can't get in the way of your date—"
"It's the least I owe you," Alphard insisted, "Just one butterbeer, Riddle, that's all."
Oh, it was going to be a lot more than one butterbeer, but Alphard didn't need to know that yet.
Instead, as if feeling very torn, Tom hesitated before nodding and waiting for the pair of them to catch up to him. Harry, stomping through the snow like a lumberjack and silently fuming. When Alphard looked elsewhere, Tom offered her a small wave and a smirk.
This was far more fun than Tom had expected.
Perhaps, instead of avoiding her tutoring sessions with Alphard Black, he should have crashed them from the beginning. So many missed opportunities.
Alphard, meanwhile, was taking this all very seriously.
"Again, Riddle, thank you," Alphard said quietly as they walked, "I realize you've… come to care less about your reputation than you did, but I know what this will do to what's left of it. You're never going to know a day of peace, not after this."
No, probably not. Orion was going to be utterly livid.
Tom had put his peers in their place back in their first year, when he'd been a little hellion on wheels just escaped from Wool's and they'd thought it was a grand idea to throw all his belongings out the window, but that was a long time ago.
They'd gone from a tense ceasefire to an uneasy truce to the tolerance and strained camaraderie that Tom had known for the past few years.
Of course, Tom had all blown that to hell in the Slug Club, but this—actively attacking Orion Black, humiliating him when he was taking care of family business, in the defense of Harry Evans. This was a declaration of war.
Orion would never forgive him for it.
Somehow, though, Tom couldn't find it in himself to care.
He no longer had the energy to waste on appeasing the likes of Orion Black.
However, saying as much would dampen the heroic sacrifice he was making for Alphard and Harry's blissful relationship, and that simply wouldn't do. So, instead, Tom shrugged and noted, "It's not me you should be worried about. Alphard, what do you plan to do when news reaches your father?"
Alphard, to his credit, didn't stumble or falter but his face did darken.
He had his own battles that he would soon have to fight. Tom hadn't thought he'd be up to them, but, by the look of his face, he was steeling himself for war and possibly all the consequences that would come with it.
He was, apparently, that serious about this.
(Something inside Tom twisted ever so slightly.)
"What about his father?" Harry asked, glaring at Tom, as if by glaring at him alone she could get him to reveal his underhanded ploys.
Tom opened his mouth but Alphard shook his head desperate, "Not here, let's—when we get inside and get a table."
In other words, when he set up the appropriate charms to dispel eavesdroppers. That, or perhaps he merely wanted to buy himself time, before Harry learned the hard facts of life that she seemed to have completely forgotten.
The likes of Harry Evans do not date the likes of Alphard Black.
The Three Broomsticks was unbearably crowded, as usual, but they'd missed the earlier rush and many of the students had left their tables to go try their luck at the various shops. There were a few tables in the back left open.
Tom and Harry sat down at one, across from each other, while Alphard made his way towards the line to order the butterbeers.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Harry pounced, "What do you think you're doing?"
"Ruining your date," he said mildly, "I promised I would."
"No, you invited yourself on my date, you horse's ass!" Harry hissed back, "Get out of here."
"And what would you tell Alphard after he went through the trouble of inviting me?" Tom said, tsking at her as he inspected his fingernails.
"I'd tell him that you're only doing this because you can't stand to see me dating anyone other than you!" Harry insisted, green eyes practically burning a hole into his.
He gave her a quick, charming, smile, "Oh, good, do tell him that. Yes, that's quite awful, and an utterly paranoid thing to say regarding your personal savior."
"Personal savior?!"
"Did I not save you from the clutches of Orion Black?" Tom asked.
She threw her hands in the air, "Saved me?! I could have taken care of that easily! My spell nearly hit his head. Would have, if you hadn't gotten in there first."
"Well, who's to say," Tom mused, "The point is that my spell won and therefore I am the hero and deserving of reward."
Not to mention that he really had made something of a sacrifice. His life would have been much easier had he just let Harry take care of it. Now he'd painted a target on his own back.
He wasn't overly concerned, certainly not regretful, but the fact was that he had made his own life more difficult for her sake.
Harry looked floored by that, unsure what to say or how to acknowledge that Tom had a very real point and decided to change tactics.
"I know what you're doing," she insisted, poking a finger into his chest accusingly.
"Of course, you do," Tom said, rolling his eyes, "It's utterly obvious, even you couldn't miss it."
"It won't work," Harry said with a grimace, "He's not that stupid and you're not that pretty."
"It will work because I am that pretty," Tom countered, "Trust me, I've got this."
Before Harry could retort, Alphard had made his way back to the table, tray of butterbeer in tow. Harry and Tom immediately turned to look at him, Tom turning back on the charm, and Harry smiling as if Alphard had just caught her with her hand in the cookie jar.
Alphard said nothing, just eyed the pair of them dubiously, and quietly handed them each a butterbeer.
"Thank you," Harry breathed gratefully, warming her hands against the mug.
Tom nodded his thanks as well.
Alphard quietly slid into the seat between them, looking rather somber and pensive. It was not at all the expression Alphard had worn that morning, one of nervous, giddy, anticipation. Beneath the few, casual, glances of the student body in the pub he seemed to grow smaller.
Good.
Tom took that as his cue. With a swish of his wand, he cast a notice-me-not charm as well as a cheap silencing ward, nothing too fancy but something that should suffice in a pub where no one would think to eavesdrop.
Once the spells settled, Tom looked over at Alphard and said quietly, "Alphard, Harry is a very good friend of mine, perhaps my only friend. Again, if you two are truly happy together, you have my full support but—I want to make sure you're serious about this."
Alphard gave Riddle a knowing look, a bitter twisting of his lips, but said nothing.
"You live in a different world than the likes of us," Tom said, motioning to himself and Harry, "You and I both know that for you—there are no casual Hogwarts flings, certainly not with the likes of us, and if you're not serious—"
Here he glanced at Harry in concern, knowing even as the words exited his mouth that Alphard Black hadn't said a damn thing, "If you haven't warned Harry of what happens next—"
"What do you mean what happens next?" Harry interjected, her tone and expression dark as she kept her eyes locked on Tom, certain he must be attempting some underhanded ploy.
Which, for once, he was not. He imagined, had he truly been only the concerned friend, these would still be the words he'd say.
All Tom was saying was the truth Alphard did not wish to acknowledge.
Alphard looked away from them both, quietly nursing his butterbeer, and so Tom spoke for him.
"Purebloods, especially from the older families, are generally engaged even before they enter Hogwarts. Nothing too binding, nothing that can't be changed, but there are—expectations of who you are allowed to marry. Who you're allowed to even be seen with."
Harry gaped at Alphard, her mouth hanging ajar, and Alphard just offered her a quiet, wry, smile.
He neither confirmed nor denied Tom's words.
Tom returned his attention to Alphard, "If this isn't serious, if this is just supposed to be a few Hogsmeade weekends and maybe a snog or two in the broom closet, then I suggest you leave well enough alone. Before your family gets involved."
"Wait, no, hold up," Harry said, holding up her hands as if to ward off anything else, "Hold the phone—are you talking about marriage?! Are we talking that serious?"
There was a truly, awkward, silence.
Alphard didn't look directly at Harry, Tom quietly nursed his butterbeer, and Harry stared open mouth in horror at them both.
Harry, clearly, had thought this would be a Hogsmeade weekend or two and a snog in the broom closet. Oh dear, poor Alphard, she just might break his heart. Tom willed himself not to grin into his butterbeer.
Finally, rubbing the back of his head, Alphard spoke, "No, not—not marriage but—Circumstances being what they are, for me, for you… Riddle has a point."
He let out a sigh and finally looked Harry in the eye, "Either our future as a couple will be very hard or it will be very short. There's not much of an in between, I'm afraid."
He took her hands in his, squeezing them gently, "I know this is our first date, believe me I know things might not work out, and that you still have—"
He glanced damningly at Riddle, a half-hearted accusatory glare, the unspoken word 'feelings' floating in he air.
"I know that you're trying to see me in a new light," Alphard said instead, "I want to take this slow, as slow as it needs to be but… if we do this then we should think in the long term. Harry, for me, marriage could be a possibility."
Tom nearly spit out his butterbeer.
That, that was not in the script. He had not expected that.
Tom felt the words pouring out of his mouth before he could even think to phrase them as a concerned friend, as someone Alphard might be interested in, instead it was his true thoughts that came out, "You would be walking away from everything. Your family will disown you, you will have nothing!"
Alphard just nodded, gave that same, wry smile from earlier, and said, "Believe me, I know it's easier to say than to do. I know that, right now, I'm in school, I have all the monetary support I've ever needed. I've never wanted for anything and I have no idea what that's like but—I'm beginning to think that I could walk away, I'm ready to walk away."
Neither Tom, nor apparently Harry, had anything to say to that.
That was not the kind of bomb one dropped in casual conversation.
After a truly long and awkward pause, Tom couldn't help but point to Harry, "Really, for her? For Harry Evans? A girl who three months ago you thought should be eating paste instead of in Potions?"
"That was you, Riddle," Alphard said, looking a touch amused, "But yes, even so."
Then, his expression shifted into something far more knowing, his smile now the Mona Lisa's, "And did you throw away your chances with my relatives, all those years of pandering and pretenses, for anything less?"
… Touché.
That was well played, too well played. Tom had the most unnerving feeling that perhaps Alphard Black saw more of Tom than Tom would have liked.
Harry, however, looked like a hunted deer on the verge of prancing away. It was nice to know that one of them had decided to be predictable.
"You know," Harry said, desperately attempting to sound casual, "I think this is all getting just a little too serious. Throwing away inheritances, futures, talking about marriage—you realize you're barmy, right? I just signed up for a nice date in Hogsmeade, no one said anything about marriage."
Alphard had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed, "Well, if you remember, Riddle brought it up first. But—it is something we should probably talk about. Whether we really intend to date or not even with all the trouble it will bring."
Harry laughed desperately, "Ah, yeah, that's great, but you're talking to a girl who's going to spend her summer in a box on the side of the road. I'm not sure it's worth anyone's trouble to date me."
Tom blinked, blinked again, and was once again thrown out of character, "You're going to what?"
"It's not important—" Harry said, suddenly paling as if she had revealed far too much.
"It is important," Tom hissed, pounding his fist on the table, "Dammit, Harry, are you homeless? Are you actually homeless?"
"Homeless is a technical term—"
"For God's sake, I live in a muggle orphanage, I can get you a place to stay—"
"Nobody's talking about how I'm homeless!" Harry spoke over him, then, looking at them both and lacing her hands together she said, "I'm just saying that this is—moving really fast. Scary fast. And—can we leave marriage off the table for a little while? Please?"
No one said anything, it seemed there wasn't anything too say, and instead they each finished off the last of their butterbeer.
After a large gulp Harry then brightly said, "So, Tom, you've had your butterbeer, right? Time for you to go, isn't it, mate?"
Kicking him out promptly, wasn't she?
Well, perhaps it was time, he'd said what he needed to say and made a good impression on Black as a truly concerned friend. Alphard would never believe that Tom had done all this for him, not yet, but he would believe that Tom might be the kind of man who, beneath his gruff exterior, had a heart of gold.
A person who cared about the few true friends he had in his life.
However, no, there was one last thing to say.
"This summer," he said, pointing at Harry, "You're staying with me. No excuses. No other plans. No other 'friends' to visit over the holidays. If you don't, I will find and ransack that cardboard box you call home."
And with that, he stood, and made his way out of the pub.
Naturally, Harry didn't follow, was probably doing damage control insisting she was not, in fact, homeless to Alphard Black. She was also likely trying to salvage her date while also keeping Alphard at a casual distance.
Tom had done well, had sown the seeds of Alphard's interest (even if Alphard didn't know it), and had deepened the cracks in Harry and Alphard's budding relationship. He should feel very pleased with himself.
He didn't though. Instead, something nagged at him, an anxious, paranoid, thought.
Something told him, that what Harry had truly meant but hadn't wanted to say, was that she had absolutely no intention of staying in the long term.
That perhaps, even by summer, she would disappear into the ether from whence she came.
Inside Harry Potter's mind, the landscape changed.
The Hogwarts grounds faded, grew dimmer and dulled, and in the distance a France that Harry had never seen nor ever truly contemplated beckoned. It glowed beneath spell fire, as if lit by an aurora, green in one moment, then red, then purple.
And somewhere out there sat Gellert Grindelwald, and in his possession, an item of great power that was as of yet unnamed.
The world 1942 had offered Harry, that brief glimpse into its relatively ordinary future, was gone now.
Tom Riddle watched all this and quietly resigned himself to the path Harry had set before them.
Come summer, Harry would undoubtedly set out to find Grindelwald and return them to the future, would eject herself from a timeline that was closing in and making a permanent place for her inside it.
No matter what it might cost.
Author's Note: Hi everybody, it's been a while, hasn't it? I feel as if I made last chapter unintentionally the largest of cliff hangers.
Thanks for reading, reviews are much appreciated.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter