"What happened?" Harry demanded as he stared at Tom's wounded face with wide eyes.
Tom raised a tentative hand up to his face and carefully touched the cuts, as though he'd already forgotten they were there at all. "I promised you I'd call you the second I got back, so I haven't healed any injuries yet."
"It looks like you were clawed by a lion or something," Harry mused as he grimaced in sympathy when Tom briefly squeezed his eyes shut in obvious discomfort.
"Nothing that exciting, my dear. Simply Bellatrix who wasn't pleased to learn she wouldn't be getting out of Azkaban anytime soon." Tom shrugged as though none of this concerned him in the least, but Harry knew better. "When I went to obliviate her, after we got the others out, she managed to reach through the bars and make her anger clear."
"Can it be healed?" Harry was a bit worried Tom might have some gruesome scars for the rest of his life thanks to that insane witch. It wouldn't matter to Harry in the slightest, what Tom ended up looking like, but it might raise some uncomfortable questions at some point as Tom tried to worm his way into high wizarding society.
"Nothing a healing spell and some dittany can't fix." Tom gave Harry a fond little smile as he leaned back in his seat, looking exhausted but satisfied. "Aside from this little scrap, everything went well. Dolohov, Rookwood and Mulciber are recovering at Dorus' Mansion and they all agreed to my conditions of their release."
Harry snorted. 'Conditions of their release.' That was a funny way of saying jailbreak, wasn't it? "I'm glad to hear everyone is safe. Not going to lie, I've been very worried today."
"Your concern is appreciated but unnecessary." Tom leaned his head back and briefly closed his eyes. "I'm sorry to notify you on such short notice, but I won't make it to our duelling lesson tomorrow." Tom looked off to the side for a moment. "Correction, today in about five hours."
Was it that late already? Harry had been so full of anxiety that he hadn't been able to keep track of time at all. "Yeah, alright. I need some sleep as well. How about we meet Sunday morning instead?"
"That works for me. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to take a quick shower, heal my face and then get some much needed sleep." Tom's eyes were drooping shut, so Harry could well imagine how tired he was.
Harry was tired as well, but not enough that he couldn't imagine Tom in the shower. Naked and wet Tom. Harry's favourite kind of Tom.
"Do I even want to know what you're thinking right now?" Tom asked, pulling Harry out of his impromptu fantasy.
Harry's cheeks flushed and he rubbed a hand across his face to rid himself of whatever obsession had just come over him. "Best not to ask. Goodnight, soulmate. See you on Sunday."
"Goodnight, my dear."
Flipping the mirror shut, Harry fell back against his pillow. God, now he was having lustful feelings about his boyfriend even when he was in his eleven-year-old body and not yet a victim of raging hormones. Harry really hoped that Tom would let him take an aging potion during their next meeting because Harry was in some serious need of a good snogging.
Theo and Blaise let Harry sleep in a bit the next morning, which Harry appreciated very much. He stumbled out of bed just after nine, when everyone else had already left for breakfast. Harry quickly made himself presentable and hurried up to the Great Hall, eager for some breakfast.
Right as Harry sat down between Theo and Blaise, who were both already finished with their food, a large eagle owl delivered a package to Harry. There was an envelope attached to it, with Harry's name on it in Barty's familiar handwriting. Still, Harry didn't take any chances and cast a few detection charms before opening the envelope.
Harry,
This way you can take some photographic evidence to send in with your paper, so no one can question your discovery. Consider it a gift for completing your first academic paper. Hopefully many more will follow.
Cheers!
Barty
Intrigued, Harry ripped open the package to find a brand-new magical camera inside, with some spare film and an instruction booklet.
Draco, who sat across from Harry, lowered his teacup and looked like he wanted to say something. Harry shot him a dark look as he closed the box again, which shut Draco up. For now.
Parkinson, unfortunately, missed Harry's clear warning. "It's astounding how spoiled some children are, isn't it, Draco? But I suppose someone as famous as the Boy Who Lived can ask for anything from anyone and get away with it."
Theo choked on his pumpkin juice while Blaise pursed his lips in a way that made it clear he was very close to dissolving into absolute hysterics. Harry, meanwhile, stared at Parkinson in utter disbelief. The fucking irony of Parkinson complaining to Draco that Harry was too spoiled was all sorts of levels of absurd and Harry couldn't even be mad about it.
"Weren't you going to go off to do your research this morning?" Theo asked after everyone had calmed down a bit again.
"I think I'll skip today and do it tomorrow morning," Harry said, glad for the convenient excuse to meet up with Tom the next day. "I've got this brand-new camera and figured I can take some time to try it out. Take some pictures of everybody."
As it turned out, Harry's many friends all thought that was a good idea and they spent the morning roaming around the castle and the grounds while Harry figured out how to work the camera. He took lots of pictures of his friends. Some individual portraits in nice locations. Neville in between a bunch of plants in Greenhouse two. Daphne lounging against a tree near the lake. Ernie with his arm wrapped around a suit of armour. Theo in the library, tucked in comfortable chair. He also took plenty of group shots. And since the camera had a delay function, Harry could join those group shots as well, which he eagerly did.
In his past life, he'd had so few pictures. Hagrid had given him a precious album of pictures of his parents, and Harry had received a few random pictures other students like Colin Creevey had made of him and his friends, but that was it. Harry remembered how disappointed he was after Sirius died that he didn't have any pictures of Sirius as he'd been when Harry knew him. He had some pictures of Sirius as a young adult with James and Lily, but none of Sirius as a man in his thirties. And that had hurt. After the final battle, when Harry lost even more people he cared about, he'd ran into the same problem. He had no pictures of Remus or Tonks to remember them by. He had one picture with the twins, but that was back when Harry was a second year and the twins were still very young teens as well.
Yeah, now that Harry had the opportunity, he was going to make sure he took more than enough pictures of all the people he cared about.
And Harry also made sure to have Kreacher bake a large batch of lardy cakes, Barty's favourites. Harry sent them off with a short letter thanking Barty profusely for his very thoughtful and useful gift.
That evening Harry spent an hour in Hogwarts' heart, taking pictures of the amazing room and its many runic arrays. Spending time with Hogwarts' sentient wards always filled Harry with a sense of peace and tranquillity. Afterwards, he went up to the owlery and sent Hedwig off with a small money pouch and three full rolls of film he'd taken so far. There was a photography shop in Occasion Alley that developed film for you, so you didn't have to do it yourself. Harry made himself a promise that he would learn to develop film on his own, but for now he was far too eager to get his hands on some pictures so he'd let the professionals handle it.
The next morning there was a front page article in the Daily Prophet about the botched escape attempt at Azkaban.
Theo's face was pale as he read over Harry's shoulder that three convicted Death Eaters were kissed by dementors while trying to escape the prison. Even Draco, who always had something to say about everything that happened around him kept his mouth shut for a change.
"They must have known no one ever escapes from Azkaban," Theo mumbled as he shook his head. "Why even risk it?"
"I suppose after years and years of being tortured by dementors even risks with very low chances of succeeding are worth taking," Blaise said in a steady tone, sounding surprisingly unfazed. But Harry could see some glint of fear shining in his dark eyes. Hardly anyone wouldn't feel scared of the idea of having their soul sucked out. Harry certainly still despised dementors, and his boggart probably still was a dementor. Or Tom lying dead in front of him, that might also be a possibility these days.
There was cheering at the Gryffindor table where several of the older students loudly proclaimed that those filthy Death Eaters got exactly what they deserved. Once upon a time, Harry would have completely agreed with them, but these days his views weren't quite so black and white anymore, especially because his best friend was a Death Eater and his boyfriend a Dark Lord in recovery.
"Have they no shame," Draco muttered while glaring at the Gryffindor table.
"No," Harry said, folding up his newspaper. "They don't have any shame, Draco. To them these men were just faceless monsters that have finally been removed from this world once and for all." Harry looked Draco in the eye and silently dared him to argue those points. Harry knew from bitter experience that Draco and plenty of other Slytherins had, once upon a different life, happily cheered on Harry's demise on more than one occasion. And Harry was hardly a faceless enemy to them. He'd been a kid they went to school with for years and years and they still would have danced on his grave if given the chance.
Of course, Draco was only eleven and lacked any capacity for subtlety and common sense. "Well, what can one expect from a bunch of blood traitors and mudbloods." The moment he said that last word, his eyes widened and he looked at Harry in shock, realizing he'd just made a rather grave mistake. "Don't you dare, Harry!"
"Don't I dare what, Draco?" Harry smiled pleasantly while slipping his right hand under the table and letting his wand fall against his palm. He aimed it at Draco and cast a rather benign curse that would make Draco speak in rhyme for about a week. He added a modifier to ensure no one would be able to remove it until it had run its course.
"Don't you dare cast a spell or I'll send you straight to hell," Draco said and then frowned, as if unsure if that was what he'd wanted to say in the first place. "You've already cursed me, didn't you? Well, Harry, I'll just have to curse you, too." And while several students around Draco started giggling, catching on to what sort of curse Harry had cast, Draco stood up and pulled his wand out of his pocket, aiming it at Harry. But before Draco could retaliate, his wand flew from his hand and straight into Snape's as their Head of House came storming towards them.
"Draco, that will be a detention with Mr Filch this evening for trying to curse a fellow student in the Great Hall," Snape snarled as he came to a stop behind Harry.
"But, Professor, that's just unfair," Draco said while giving Snape a pleading look. "Harry cursed me, much to my despair."
Blaise snorted and quickly pressed his fist against his mouth while Theo looked down, shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.
"Potter," Snape sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What did you do?"
"Nothing at all," Harry said pleasantly, gesturing at Draco. "He's got no donkey ears that I can see."
"It's not my ears you cursed this time," Draco yelled, placing his hands on the table and leaning closer to Harry. "You've cursed me to speak in rhyme!"
Half the Slytherin table sniggered and chuckled while pretending to mind their own business.
"I think Draco's pulling a prank, Sir," Harry said while giving Snape his best innocent look. "He's pretending to be cursed just to get me in trouble."
"How dare you lie like that," Draco said, his face scrunching up in a grimace, as though he was horrified by what came out of his mouth. "You enormous brat."
"I think a curse would have given Draco a better rhyming vocabulary," Harry said, hoping Snape would buy his explanation.
"Oh shut up, Potter, you rotter." Draco sat down at the table and crossed his arms, mouth pulling down in a pout.
"I do believe I've seen enough," Snape said while giving Harry a most unimpressed look. "You'll be serving a detention with me tomorrow night, Potter, for criticizing a fellow student unfairly."
"Yes, Professor," Harry said dutifully, knowing that resistance was futile. He was just glad Snape apparently wanted to enjoy his weekend as well and refused to see students for a detention on a Sunday night or Harry would have missed his Fantasy Quidditch meeting.
"Draco, you'd best see Madam Pomfrey. Perhaps she can be of some assistance." After Snape handed Draco back his wand he left them to the rest of their breakfast. Draco jumped up at once and left the Great Hall in a huff.
"That was rather inspired," Blaise said while giving Harry a pleased little smile. "Punish him for saying a forbidden word by messing with his ability to speak."
"I do try," Harry said and offered his friends a short bow before turning back to his breakfast. He hadn't eaten a thing yet and he'd be meeting Tom soon. Their duelling lessons always required lots of effort so Harry wanted to make sure he had a solid base of energy at his disposal.
After breakfast, Harry briefly stopped in the dungeons to collect his camera since he wanted to take it with him to the Chamber of Secrets. Tom was the person Harry wanted a ton of photos of.
"Soulmate!" Harry raised his camera as he strolled into the chamber where Tom was already waiting. "We're taking some pictures today. I don't have any of you."
"You need wanking material?" Tom said with a crooked grin.
"Oh my god, no!" Harry glared at Tom, narrowing his eyes even more when Tom couldn't hold back a chuckle. "I'd like to have some pictures of the people I care about, alright? I barely had any in my previous life and I'm definitely rectifying it this time."
"Very well." Tom held out a vial of aging potion. "I suppose I wouldn't mind having a few pictures of you to put on my nightstand." Tom gave Harry an expectant look as though he was waiting for Harry to comment on Tom's need for certain types of material featuring Harry.
Wisely, Harry kept his mouth shut and instead put his camera down on the small table carefully so he could undress.
"Where did you even get a new camera?" Tom asked as Harry turned his naked back on him and downed the potion.
"Barty gave it to me, to take pictures of the Room of Requirement. To go with my paper." Harry gritted his teeth for a second as his body shot up about a foot.
"How is that coming along?" Tom asked, handing Harry a shirt and some underwear when Harry was done growing.
"Just about done with my complete first draft. I'm sending it off to the Flamels once I get the pictures back." Harry stepped into a pair of black trousers and shoved his feet into a pair of shoes and then gave Tom a bright smile. "I want some pictures of you around the Chamber, but also some of us together. Also, I have missed you." And with that, Harry all but flung himself against Tom and pressed his lips to Tom's mouth in an eager kiss.
Tom parted his lips and deepened their kiss while Harry wound his arms around Tom's neck. It still amazed him that he was so eager to snog who was once Voldemort these days, but there was no denying that Harry deeply, truly loved Tom Riddle. Just being in Tom's arms, lips locked in a fierce, hungry kiss, made all of the world's problems slip away. Harry sagged against Tom, who had his arms around Harry's waist and kept him upright while slowly bringing an end to their kiss.
"Hmm." Harry stared up at Tom with hooded eyes. "I needed that. Also, I'm glad to see you've got your pretty face back."
Tom rolled his eyes, though he couldn't hold back a smile. "Glad to see you have your priorities straight, my dear."
"Most people at the Slytherin table were quite upset to read about what happened," Harry said softly, wanting to prove to Tom that he did indeed knew what things actually mattered. "Of course, then Draco had to stick his foot in his mouth so I cursed him to speak in rhyme. And now I've got a detention with Snape tomorrow."
"Subtle, you are not." Tom pressed a slow, lingering kiss against Harry's lips. "But then again, you wouldn't be you if you weren't more impulsive than the average niffler in a bank."
"I just can't help it," Harry said, meaning every word of it. He tried, time and again, to curb his tendencies towards acting without thinking, but so far he'd yet to master that particular craft. "So what's going to happen to your minions?"
"They'll have a week to recover at Dorus'. They've already seen a Healer who's put them on an ample potions regime. Next week they're going to Lebanon, to have their faces permanently transfigured. After that we'll set up new identities for them."
"And they were fine with you no longer acting like Voldemort?" Harry asked, since he couldn't help but worry that some of Tom's old followers might try to make life difficult for them.
Tom got a contemplative look on his face, though his eyes were shadowed as he spoke. "I honestly believe they're mostly grateful to be out of the hellhole and to get a second chance at living a decent life. Others, those who I left behind, weren't nearly so pleased once they realized I was no longer the Dark Lord they once knew."
"Don't you dare feel bad about that, Tom," Harry said with a voice full of conviction. "They ultimately made their own choices that led them to Azkaban."
"Perhaps," Tom replied in a quiet voice. "But you cannot deny that I share a large part of the blame for why they made the choices they did."
"That was soulless you," Harry pointed out, tightening his arms around Tom for a moment to help bring his point across. "That hasn't been you ever since we were given a second chance. Don't let your actions from our previous life keep you full of guilt in this one."
"That's easier said than done, especially seeing the state of the witches and wizards I once considered my closest followers," Tom whispered and then visibly shook himself. "But you are right that I shouldn't let that spoil my time with you, my dear. Did you want to take some pictures?"
"Yes!" Harry pressed one last kiss to Tom's lips and then showed off his camera, explaining how it worked. For the next hour, he had Tom pose around the Chamber of Secrets. Tom insisted that Harry pose for plenty of pictures as well, which Harry did once he realized that of course Tom would also want to have a few pictures of his boyfriend, just like Harry did. After that Harry put the delay function to good use and they took several pictures of the both of them together. A couple around the Chamber of Secrets, but also a couple where Tom sat in one of the leather chairs with Harry lounging in his lap.
"I want one of us kissing," Harry murmured as he leaned up to press his lips against Tom's.
"You sure you're not looking for wank material?" Tom whispered right before Harry deepened the kiss. Being in his adult body always made Harry go wild with lust whenever he got the chance to snog Tom. Harry wound his hand in Tom's hair and tried to pull him closer, but Tom pulled back a little so he could speak. "Keep this up, my dear, and we'll be producing our own pornography before the night is over because I am very close to losing control."
A part of Harry really wanted to push Tom just to see what would happen. Well, lots of sexy things, that was a given. But what kind of sexy things exactly would take place was a mystery Harry wouldn't mind solving right then and there.
"The Easter holidays are coming up in a few weeks," Tom said, pulling back a little though he kept his arms firmly wrapped around Harry. "I think that would be a much better opportunity to take our relationship to the next level than a hasty rendezvous in a damp basement before you're expected to socialize with your young friends again.
"Well, when you put it like that." Harry couldn't hold back a disappointed sigh, but he knew Tom had a good point. "We'll be staying at Dorus' again, right?"
"Yes, in adjacent rooms, so we'll have lots of opportunity to spend some quality time together." Tom pressed a kiss to Harry's lips, eyes shining with obvious desire. "The whole night, even, if that is what you want."
"Yeah," Harry breathed, fire erupting in his loins, cock rock hard in his trousers. "I really just want to lock you in my bedroom for that entire week, to be honest."
Tom chuckled and then purposefully shifted Harry in his lap so Harry could feel exactly how much Tom liked that idea. Harry wasn't the only one with an overly eager dick apparently. "That sounds like a perfect idea to me. Let's stick to that plan and for now we can actually do what we came here to do. Let's duel."
"Wait," Harry said as he reluctantly got up from Tom's lap. "You're letting me actually cast spells today?" So far Harry had been doing everything but casting magic at Tom. He'd breathed and aimed and ducked and rolled, but he'd yet to actually duel Tom.
"Yes, my dear." Tom pushed himself up while giving Harry a grin bordering on a smirk. "Let's see how quickly I can disarm you."
Which was pretty darn quick, much to Harry's chagrin. Tom handed Harry his wand back and said, "Again."
And that is how Harry spent the rest of the morning, getting his arse handed to him by Tom in the most unpleasant way possible. Still, he learned a lot as Tom kept pointing out what Harry did wrong time and again, and that's what mattered in the end.
After saying a drawn-out goodbye with lots of snogging, Harry returned to his tiny body and trooped back to the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts. Harry had hoped that perhaps he'd get used to shifting between his adult body and his young self, but every time he spent time as an adult he hated becoming a child again a bit more. Yeah, the way things were looking now, Harry was absolutely sure he wasn't staying at Hogwarts beyond his third year. Perhaps not even beyond his second. Being a kid again was fun from time to time and Harry truly appreciated the chance to do that part of his life over again, but it did not compare to being his adult self. To have his body match his mind and allowing him to do all the things that adults usually wanted to do.
After lunch, Harry made a quick trip to the Owlery, to send off the newly filled film rolls to be developed. He also added extra Galleons and an order for a whole bunch more film rolls since he'd already run out.
He spent the afternoon with his friends. They took a walk around the castle since the weather was dry and sunny, though the wind was still quit chilly in early March. Afterwards they spent some time relaxing in the Club House, chatting about everything from the upcoming Fantasy Quidditch meeting to everyone's favourite foods at Hogwarts. Harry's was treacle tart, but he was the only one who choose that one.
That evening's Fantasy Quidditch meeting was a loud affair, with many students (Harry included) raising their voices when others criticized their choices of players. Still, it was all done in good fun and Harry went to bed with a smile on his face, soon finding himself in the warm, comforting embrace of Tom's soul.
Monday morning brought with it a heavy envelope full of pictures delivered by a beautiful barn owl. They were the pictures Harry had taken on Saturday and since he'd ordered double prints of every picture he could keep one of each for himself and share the others with his friends. The extra pictures of the sentient wards would go with his paper. Harry had already prepared a letter for the Flamels with a copy of his paper's first draft, and since their first period was History, Harry took his time adding the relevant pictures and then securing the whole thing in a thick envelope. He strolled up to the owlery again, and Hedwig, who'd only just returned from her flight the previous day, was eager enough to deliver something else.
"This goes to the Flamels, girl," Harry whispered, stroking Hedwig across the soft feathers of her breast. He still marvelled that he got her back. Losing her had been a blow that hadn't really hit him until some time later, during an evening in that fucking tent when Harry was hiding from the whole entire world. He'd finally realized he'd lost his first real friend, and even though she'd only been an owl, she had without a doubt been Harry's most loyal friend throughout the years she'd been by his side. "Thanks, and be careful." Harry chuckled when Hedwig gave him a haughty look as though she didn't appreciate Harry doubting her abilities to keep herself safe.
Harry arrived at History fifteen minutes late but Binns didn't even notice, so Harry quietly slipped into his seat and got out a Runes book to read.
During lunch, Harry heard some vague whispers that Quirrell had suffered an accident over the weekend. Harry glanced at the head table and Quirrell wasn't seated at it, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. The curse had been removed, so that wasn't the culprit. Or perhaps Quirrell was simply feeling under the weather and the students were blowing up the story, making much more out of it than necessary.
"Maybe we'll have a free afternoon," Draco said to Parkinson as they made their way to double Defence. "Wouldn't that be an unexpected boon."
"Oh Draco, you poor thing," Parkinson sighed, clinging to Draco's arm while she batted large eyes at him.
Draco nodded sagely. "Pomfrey was a complete hack. I've yet to encounter a curse she can actually crack."
Quirrell was nowhere to be seen as they entered the classroom. Everyone still sat down, since it wasn't unusual for a professor to only enter the classroom once the bell had rung and class had officially started.
"Draco may have sounded funny when he said it, but he was right that we might have an unexpected afternoon off," Blaise said when the bell rang and Quirrell still hadn't shown up.
A clunking sound approached the classroom from outside in the corridor. The grizzled face of Alastor Moody appeared in the doorway, giving every child assembled a suspicious look, fake eye spinning in its socket.
Harry's breath caught in his throat. This was the real Alastor Moody, the same bastard who'd tried to kidnap Harry during the Yule holidays on Dumbledore's order. And now he was here to teach them Defence, apparently.
"Quirrell cursed himself and he'll be out of the running for a while," Moody grunted as he walked across the classroom to the front, prosthetic leg dragging slightly along. "So I'll be your instructor for the time being."
