(Author's Thanks: Stormy1x2, LadyBird, mike, Julie, Hanaus and npetrenko
for reviewing.
Disclaimers: All characters in the story belong to J.K. Rowling.
Warnings: This story will eventually be slash. If you are against homosexual relationships, please do not read this story. Any furious rant against slash in a review will be mocked. Thank you.
Author's Notes: *impish grin* I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Two more unusual pairings pop up in this one. *grins some more* Oh, and wow, six reviews? They made me feel great! Thanks, everyone!
~Cinaed)
Nest of the Phoenix
By Cinaed, Born of Fire
Chapter Five
When Harry awoke from his second drugged sleep, it was to the sound of soft whispers, not rowdy laughter.
"Charlie, you shouldn't be here. What if Madam Pomfrey catches you?"
"I'll just say I had a bout of insomnia and decided to come visit you. I had to talk to you in private." Even Harry's sleepy brain managed to process the fact that Charlie Weasley was in the infirmary visiting-who?
"Do you think she'll believe you?" The soft, hopeful words tugged at Harry's memory banks. The voice was vaguely familiar, but the Boy Who Lived couldn't recall a name. After all, it couldn't be Tom.
"Of course, who can resist my Weasley charm?"
"Well, Hermione, Lee, Severus, Neville, Oliver, and your secret lover couldn't, but that's not the point. She might be able to, and I'll bet the new guy will too."
"Who, Harry?"
"I guess that's his name. George called him Mason," murmured the unnamed voice.
"No, Fred did. His name's Harry Mason and he's recently of Durmstrang."
"How'd you know that?"
"Remember when Pig flew off and I was recruited to go find the git? Well, I met him then."
Harry finally opened his eyes, but everything was blurred and he couldn't grab his glasses without being detected. So he squinted into the blurred mass that was probably the curtain around his bed, and attempted to identify the voice that Charlie spoke so secretively to.
"Oh, that makes sense. What do you think of him?" There was curiosity in the voice, and the Boy Who Lived had to fight back a grin. What /did/ Charlie Weasley think about him? And what could the man say without straying from Dumbledore's assessment of Harry's new personality?
"Well, I didn't get a chance to talk to him that much, but he seems interesting. Everyone can tell he doesn't like authority, after his arguments with Poppy. He was actually polite to me, for the most part. Very, very sarcastic."
"Ah, he'll get along with Draco then," declared the voice, and Harry knew that whoever was speaking was grinning.
"How /are/ Draco and Seamus doing, by the way? That trip to Romania for three weeks really made me lose track of everything going on here."
"They're great. Seamus dotes on Draco, and Draco puts up with Seamus' antics." There was fondness in the person's voice, and Harry had to remind himself that Malfoy was a good guy in this universe. "I note you didn't ask about your oldest brother."
"Why, do I need to?" Charlie asked, sounding amused. "He and Severus are obsessed about each other. That will never fade."
This time Harry had to fight back a gasp. Bill and Snape, together as a /couple/? This entire universe was insane! How could any of them have found love in such odd relationships? The Potter was certain that his universe would never have such pairings. His blind eyes remained focused on the curtains as Charlie and the other person kept talking.
"Touché," the voice commented, laughing softly. "Those two will love each other forever."
"Just like me and my lover, right, Tom?" The words were infinitely teasing, but Harry was definitely bewildered now. This universe was too confusing.. Besides, who did Charlie love? A better question: How much older was Snape compared to Bill?
The Boy Who Lived was still trying to cope with the astounding news he had just eavesdropped upon when a loud voice declared, "Charlie! What in Merlin's beard are you doing here?"
"I was-was having a bout of insomnia, Poppy. I came to peek in on Tom, and he was awake, so we got to talking, trying to wear him out so he'd sleep again." After the initial stumble, Charlie's amiable words had grown confident.
"Well, you two could have woken me up," Harry heard Madam Pomfrey declared, sounding mollified. "Would you like me to get you two some nice cups of tea? It'll relax you, so you'll fall back to sleep quickly."
"Will it be drugged like everything you seem to stuff in Harry Mason's mouth?" Charlie inquired, sounding innocent even as Tom quietly laughed.
"Harry Mason is in a league all his own, Charlie Weasley. And in fact, his sleeping draught should have worn off a few minutes ago. I got up to check on him."
Harry quickly closed his eyes and evened out his breathing as soft footfalls met his ears. A moment later, the curtain was shoved aside and the nurse's voice filled his ears. "Harry Mason, are you awake?"
The Boy Who Lived purposely mumbled something intelligible, waving a clumsy arm at her. "G'way," he finally declared, deciding to attempt a sleep- slurred speech. "No drugs."
He heard Charlie and Tom's laughter, accompanied by Madam Pomfrey's huff. She grabbed his shoulder and shook him roughly. "Come on, dear, you need to have some tea and then go back to sleep."
"Gi' los'. No tea," Harry mumbled, and this time the sleep-garbled speech wasn't faked. After closing his eyes, lethargy had snuck upon him, and now he didn't want to open his eyes. Besides, he was nice and warm and he could actually sleep without Uncle Vernon screaming at him to get up..
"Get up!" The hand shook him roughly, but Harry muttered something incoherent once more, letting the soothing sleep rise over him and darkness claim him.
. . .
Consciousness came back to him slowly, quickening his senses. With a low moan, he reached out blindly, grabbing the smooth texture of his glasses. Propping himself up on one elbow, he slipped them onto his face and glanced around. The curtains were still closed, but somehow he knew it wasn't quite dawn.
Why was it so quiet? Harry couldn't even hear Tom breathing in the bed nearby. Blinking in bewilderment, the Boy Who Lived reached out a hand to push aside the curtains and see if the other boy had dashed off with Charlie to go meet with the latter's 'secret lover.'
His face turned slightly ashen at the thought of what that could mean before he shook his head and shoved a little bit of the curtain aside. To his surprise, a warm light spilled into the darkness that had covered him. The bright beams danced across his frozen flesh, warming the cold boy. Of course, the bright light also blinded him.
Blinking to clear the black spots from his vision, Harry poked his head through the curtains and glanced around. The place was completely empty. His eyes widened in astonishment. Shouldn't there be /someone/ here?
Biting his lower lip, the Gryffindor eased himself off the bed, still in the Muggle clothes he had been wearing when he had changed dimensions. Deep green eyes surveyed his surroundings as momentary dizziness struck him. He had stood up too fast. Closing his eyes for a moment to regain his equilibrium, Harry recovered it and opened his eyes once more.
"Madam Pomfrey? Tom?" The quiet calls seemed to shatter the peaceful scene, and the bright light dimmed, leaving the Potter cold once more. Shivering and rubbing his arms, the thin boy frowned. "Is anyone here?"
"Here." The voice from behind him made Harry jump and whirl, his eyes wide with surprise. His stunned green eyes took in the figure that had suddenly appeared, and his breath caught in his throat.
Cedric Diggory smiled at him, reclining comfortably upon the bed. His gray eyes were kind as he raised an elegant eyebrow. In his hand, he held a hand- knit blanket the same color as Harry's eyes.
"Cedric?" The astonished whisper escaped the brunet's lips even as he realized he had to be dreaming. "You're-you're-"
"Dead?" The Hufflepuff Seeker suggested with a broad, amused grin, tossing the blanket at the surprised boy. "Well, of course, but that's why I'm having so much fun!"
The blanket struck Harry in the chest, and he barely managed to catch it before the blanket could fall to the ground. Immediately, the boy clutched the knitting to his chest like a lifesaver, staring at the older boy with bewildered green eyes.
"You look like someone just told you that Professor Snape is secretly in love with Madam Pomfrey, Potter," teased Cedric, the kindness still in his eyes. "Sure, I'm dead and talking to you, but that isn't any odder than you suddenly finding yourself in an alternate universe where you don't exist."
"For one thing, that was a really /horrid/ mental image. For another, you're just a figment of my imagination that likes to torture me. I must say this is a better dream than reliving your death, though." Harry was vaguely aware that he was babbling, but couldn't seem to help himself as he clutched the green blanket.
"For your information, I am not a figment of your imagination," stated Cedric, sounding mildly insulted, but the warmth never fading from his handsome face. "It's simply easier for spirits to speak to the living during a dream state rather than when the living is awake. Sleep is, after all, a cousin of Death."
"Well, that's cheerful." Harry shivered once more, and finally moved to drape the blanket around his shoulders. The blanket settled gently upon him, warming him as if he was covered by numerous layers in bed. Blinking in surprise, he focused on the spirit of Cedric Diggory. "So, why did you decide to visit me?"
"Besides to tell you to stop being a bloody git and not feeling guilty about me all the time? It wasn't your fault, and besides, it's pretty interesting being dead. Not that I wouldn't rather be alive, mind you, but it's better than most of the Muggles and wizards think." Cedric's tone was far too cheerful for someone talking about his own death, and there was a bright smile on his striking face.
"So-so my parents are all right?" Harry's green eyes searched Cedric's pale gray ones.
An uncomfortable look flitted across the spirit's face before he grinned. "Well, that's the thing. Most spirits can go up to a place we all like to call Elysium and hang out there, but those killed and then not avenged are sort of stuck wandering around the universes for a while." Cedric's next sentence was meant to soothe. "Once someone kills Voldemort, your parents, a bunch of other nice folks, and I will have the option of going to rest at Elysium. Right now, your parents are wandering around a universe where there was no Dark Lord at all." He snickered. "You should have seen your dad's face when he found a universe that had him paired up with Lucius and Lily as a threesome!"
Harry, however, turned green at the thought and the horrible images that accompanied it. "Ugh, my dad in a threesome? That's not something I want to hear about."
"You look exactly like he did when he heard about it. Of course, Lily thought it was hilarious." Cedric smirked. "She's pretty cool about these things. Of course, she turned bright red when she found a universe where she was with Professor Snape."
"You're just telling me this just to make me vomit, aren't you?"
"Sorry, I'll stop." The Hufflepuff was still grinning. "Anyway, now that I've told you, could you stop moping and actually get healthy? Your parents were not amused when I popped in and found out that you hadn't been eating or sleeping."
"Why didn't they come with you?" There was almost a pitiful note to Harry's voice, and Cedric's grin faded a little.
"Oh, they'll come to visit soon. I just asked to speak to you in private since your parents would get all choked up and you'd completely ignore me if I tried to explain everything."
Harry blinked, but the other boy's logic made sense and he reluctantly nodded. "Okay, I get it. I promise I'll try to start eating better-as long as this universe's Madam Pomfrey stops drugging me. That's just bloody annoying."
"Want me to haunt her?" Cedric offered, making Harry laugh. "Of course, it wouldn't be much of a haunting since-"
. . .
"Harry!" The cried name made the Gryffindor blink and bolt upright, his vision blurred once more. His sleep-addled brain was bewildered, and he wondered where Cedric was.
Someone slipped his glasses onto his face, and he saw the concerned face of Madam Pomfrey gazing at him. Instantaneously, the drowsiness vanished, replaced by pure annoyance. "Why the hell did you wake me?" he snarled, surprised at the venom in his words. "I was having a /nice/ dream."
The nurse huffed before pressing a hand to his forehead. "It's time for breakfast, and I thought you'd like to have some food. Then you wouldn't wake up, and I was worried."
"It's called a /deep/ sleep for a reason." Harry grouched for a few more seconds before the smell of biscuits caressed his senses. For the first time in a long while he felt ravenous with no thought of the fact that Cedric wouldn't be able to eat the biscuits he was about to devour.
The warm tray settled upon his lap, the heat soaking into his thighs and stomach and warming him. He actually smiled before tucking in, each bite only increasing his desire for the meal. Cedric's affectionate words washed over him as he consumed the biscuits, and for the first time in what seemed forever, Harry felt at peace.
"Harry?" The soft whisper met his ears and made the boy pause, turning his green gaze in the direction of the nearby bed.
"Yes—Tom, isn't it?" He was a much better actor than he thought. Did wizards have theaters and that sort of thing? Maybe he would try a few productions after graduation. If he ever got home, that is. "Ron was pointing some of you out, especially the people in my year." Harry couldn't help but add hastily, "I'm in my fifth year like you, in case you can't tell." Madam Pomfrey had vanished, apparently back to her office.
"Sorry, I'm not very good at judging ages." There was a somewhat sheepish note to Tom Riddle's voice, and the Boy Who Lived found himself gazing at the other boy in wonder. Had his universe's Tom ever looked this carefree and pure? As Harry watched, the nephew of James Potter looked embarrassed once more. "Listen, I was wondering—why do you hate Madam Pomfrey so much?"
"Would you like someone who keeps drugging you and stuffing food down your throat?" Harry inquired with a note of sarcasm in his voice as his aggravation at this universe's Madam Pomfrey was invoked.
"Well, no, but she's actually a very nice person-"
"I'll believe that when I see it." The Boy Who Lived cut the other boy off, his tone polite but curt. He glanced at Tom and noticed that the other boy had only a cup of steaming liquid in his hands. "Did you already eat?"
"Oh, yeah. Madam Pomfrey's just having me drink some of her specialized tea. I'll be going to class soon, and you'll be stuck all by yourself in this lovely infirmary." The Riddle offered Harry a teasing grin, which the latter slowly returned.
"Any way to waylaid her?"
"Nope. You haven't got a chance, my Durmstrang friend."
"Bloody hell. Oh, and since you already seem to know about my former school, how fast does word travel in Hogwarts?"
"Well, let me put it this way. If it's a secret, then the whole school will eventually know about it."
"Let me repeat: bloody hell," moaned Harry, although he had already known that.
Tom chuckled and offered him a sympathetic look at the same time. "You get used to it."
"Secrets stayed secrets where I'm from." Shaking his head, the brunet tilted his head thoughtfully. "And there definitely weren't as many unusual relationships."
His fellow brunet blushed and glanced away. "Um, well, I hope it doesn't bother you. Dumbledore encourages us to find true love, in case something should happen." Tom's tone darkened at the final part of the sentence.
"Yeah, Ron mentioned something along the lines of that. I'm just finding it hard to take in, I guess." Harry offered Tom a sheepish smile of his own, and tried to think of what Dumbledore had told him to say. "My parents—one's Muggle-born and the other's not—never really talked to me about-" The Potter felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment because he couldn't quite say the word, and finally ended with, "-same-sex relationships. I guess they think I'm an innocent." A sarcastic curve twisted his lips.
Tom looked relieved. "Oh, don't worry. Not many magical schools are as open about homosexuality as Hogwarts is." His look shifted to one of curiousness. "Do you have a preference?"
If Harry had thought his cheeks had been warm struggling to say the word homosexuality, it was nothing compared to the fact that his entire face felt like he had just stuck his face into a roaring fireplace. His face was probably the color of a tomato. "I-I, um-" His tongue felt suddenly leaden in his mouth as he considered his crush on Cho Chang.
"Sorry, I shouldn't pry. It's your own business." Tom's voice was apologetic.
Finally his tongue loosened, and the statement slipped from his lips before his brain even registered the words. "I heard you two."
All color fled Tom's face, and the Gryffindor looked nervous. "What?"
"I heard you two, you and Charlie. I won't tell anyone though, I promise. I- I pretended to be asleep because I didn't want to bother you, but I could hear your voices talking about Seamus and Draco and some people named Bill and Severus, and that Charlie has some sort of secret lover. I won't tell!" The final sentence escaped him in a rush, and Harry sagged against the pillows.
"Please don't," Tom said, his smile weak. "His boyfriend's father would kill Charlie since he's more than a tad homophobic."
"Tom?" Both brunets turned their heads towards the door, and Harry found himself gawking at the two figures standing there.
"Oh, hello, Bill! Hi Severus!" he heard Tom state cheerfully as the Boy Who Lived lowered his gaze to his plate of biscuits and tried to figure out how on earth Snape had been changed so much.
(To be continued)
Disclaimers: All characters in the story belong to J.K. Rowling.
Warnings: This story will eventually be slash. If you are against homosexual relationships, please do not read this story. Any furious rant against slash in a review will be mocked. Thank you.
Author's Notes: *impish grin* I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Two more unusual pairings pop up in this one. *grins some more* Oh, and wow, six reviews? They made me feel great! Thanks, everyone!
~Cinaed)
Nest of the Phoenix
By Cinaed, Born of Fire
Chapter Five
When Harry awoke from his second drugged sleep, it was to the sound of soft whispers, not rowdy laughter.
"Charlie, you shouldn't be here. What if Madam Pomfrey catches you?"
"I'll just say I had a bout of insomnia and decided to come visit you. I had to talk to you in private." Even Harry's sleepy brain managed to process the fact that Charlie Weasley was in the infirmary visiting-who?
"Do you think she'll believe you?" The soft, hopeful words tugged at Harry's memory banks. The voice was vaguely familiar, but the Boy Who Lived couldn't recall a name. After all, it couldn't be Tom.
"Of course, who can resist my Weasley charm?"
"Well, Hermione, Lee, Severus, Neville, Oliver, and your secret lover couldn't, but that's not the point. She might be able to, and I'll bet the new guy will too."
"Who, Harry?"
"I guess that's his name. George called him Mason," murmured the unnamed voice.
"No, Fred did. His name's Harry Mason and he's recently of Durmstrang."
"How'd you know that?"
"Remember when Pig flew off and I was recruited to go find the git? Well, I met him then."
Harry finally opened his eyes, but everything was blurred and he couldn't grab his glasses without being detected. So he squinted into the blurred mass that was probably the curtain around his bed, and attempted to identify the voice that Charlie spoke so secretively to.
"Oh, that makes sense. What do you think of him?" There was curiosity in the voice, and the Boy Who Lived had to fight back a grin. What /did/ Charlie Weasley think about him? And what could the man say without straying from Dumbledore's assessment of Harry's new personality?
"Well, I didn't get a chance to talk to him that much, but he seems interesting. Everyone can tell he doesn't like authority, after his arguments with Poppy. He was actually polite to me, for the most part. Very, very sarcastic."
"Ah, he'll get along with Draco then," declared the voice, and Harry knew that whoever was speaking was grinning.
"How /are/ Draco and Seamus doing, by the way? That trip to Romania for three weeks really made me lose track of everything going on here."
"They're great. Seamus dotes on Draco, and Draco puts up with Seamus' antics." There was fondness in the person's voice, and Harry had to remind himself that Malfoy was a good guy in this universe. "I note you didn't ask about your oldest brother."
"Why, do I need to?" Charlie asked, sounding amused. "He and Severus are obsessed about each other. That will never fade."
This time Harry had to fight back a gasp. Bill and Snape, together as a /couple/? This entire universe was insane! How could any of them have found love in such odd relationships? The Potter was certain that his universe would never have such pairings. His blind eyes remained focused on the curtains as Charlie and the other person kept talking.
"Touché," the voice commented, laughing softly. "Those two will love each other forever."
"Just like me and my lover, right, Tom?" The words were infinitely teasing, but Harry was definitely bewildered now. This universe was too confusing.. Besides, who did Charlie love? A better question: How much older was Snape compared to Bill?
The Boy Who Lived was still trying to cope with the astounding news he had just eavesdropped upon when a loud voice declared, "Charlie! What in Merlin's beard are you doing here?"
"I was-was having a bout of insomnia, Poppy. I came to peek in on Tom, and he was awake, so we got to talking, trying to wear him out so he'd sleep again." After the initial stumble, Charlie's amiable words had grown confident.
"Well, you two could have woken me up," Harry heard Madam Pomfrey declared, sounding mollified. "Would you like me to get you two some nice cups of tea? It'll relax you, so you'll fall back to sleep quickly."
"Will it be drugged like everything you seem to stuff in Harry Mason's mouth?" Charlie inquired, sounding innocent even as Tom quietly laughed.
"Harry Mason is in a league all his own, Charlie Weasley. And in fact, his sleeping draught should have worn off a few minutes ago. I got up to check on him."
Harry quickly closed his eyes and evened out his breathing as soft footfalls met his ears. A moment later, the curtain was shoved aside and the nurse's voice filled his ears. "Harry Mason, are you awake?"
The Boy Who Lived purposely mumbled something intelligible, waving a clumsy arm at her. "G'way," he finally declared, deciding to attempt a sleep- slurred speech. "No drugs."
He heard Charlie and Tom's laughter, accompanied by Madam Pomfrey's huff. She grabbed his shoulder and shook him roughly. "Come on, dear, you need to have some tea and then go back to sleep."
"Gi' los'. No tea," Harry mumbled, and this time the sleep-garbled speech wasn't faked. After closing his eyes, lethargy had snuck upon him, and now he didn't want to open his eyes. Besides, he was nice and warm and he could actually sleep without Uncle Vernon screaming at him to get up..
"Get up!" The hand shook him roughly, but Harry muttered something incoherent once more, letting the soothing sleep rise over him and darkness claim him.
. . .
Consciousness came back to him slowly, quickening his senses. With a low moan, he reached out blindly, grabbing the smooth texture of his glasses. Propping himself up on one elbow, he slipped them onto his face and glanced around. The curtains were still closed, but somehow he knew it wasn't quite dawn.
Why was it so quiet? Harry couldn't even hear Tom breathing in the bed nearby. Blinking in bewilderment, the Boy Who Lived reached out a hand to push aside the curtains and see if the other boy had dashed off with Charlie to go meet with the latter's 'secret lover.'
His face turned slightly ashen at the thought of what that could mean before he shook his head and shoved a little bit of the curtain aside. To his surprise, a warm light spilled into the darkness that had covered him. The bright beams danced across his frozen flesh, warming the cold boy. Of course, the bright light also blinded him.
Blinking to clear the black spots from his vision, Harry poked his head through the curtains and glanced around. The place was completely empty. His eyes widened in astonishment. Shouldn't there be /someone/ here?
Biting his lower lip, the Gryffindor eased himself off the bed, still in the Muggle clothes he had been wearing when he had changed dimensions. Deep green eyes surveyed his surroundings as momentary dizziness struck him. He had stood up too fast. Closing his eyes for a moment to regain his equilibrium, Harry recovered it and opened his eyes once more.
"Madam Pomfrey? Tom?" The quiet calls seemed to shatter the peaceful scene, and the bright light dimmed, leaving the Potter cold once more. Shivering and rubbing his arms, the thin boy frowned. "Is anyone here?"
"Here." The voice from behind him made Harry jump and whirl, his eyes wide with surprise. His stunned green eyes took in the figure that had suddenly appeared, and his breath caught in his throat.
Cedric Diggory smiled at him, reclining comfortably upon the bed. His gray eyes were kind as he raised an elegant eyebrow. In his hand, he held a hand- knit blanket the same color as Harry's eyes.
"Cedric?" The astonished whisper escaped the brunet's lips even as he realized he had to be dreaming. "You're-you're-"
"Dead?" The Hufflepuff Seeker suggested with a broad, amused grin, tossing the blanket at the surprised boy. "Well, of course, but that's why I'm having so much fun!"
The blanket struck Harry in the chest, and he barely managed to catch it before the blanket could fall to the ground. Immediately, the boy clutched the knitting to his chest like a lifesaver, staring at the older boy with bewildered green eyes.
"You look like someone just told you that Professor Snape is secretly in love with Madam Pomfrey, Potter," teased Cedric, the kindness still in his eyes. "Sure, I'm dead and talking to you, but that isn't any odder than you suddenly finding yourself in an alternate universe where you don't exist."
"For one thing, that was a really /horrid/ mental image. For another, you're just a figment of my imagination that likes to torture me. I must say this is a better dream than reliving your death, though." Harry was vaguely aware that he was babbling, but couldn't seem to help himself as he clutched the green blanket.
"For your information, I am not a figment of your imagination," stated Cedric, sounding mildly insulted, but the warmth never fading from his handsome face. "It's simply easier for spirits to speak to the living during a dream state rather than when the living is awake. Sleep is, after all, a cousin of Death."
"Well, that's cheerful." Harry shivered once more, and finally moved to drape the blanket around his shoulders. The blanket settled gently upon him, warming him as if he was covered by numerous layers in bed. Blinking in surprise, he focused on the spirit of Cedric Diggory. "So, why did you decide to visit me?"
"Besides to tell you to stop being a bloody git and not feeling guilty about me all the time? It wasn't your fault, and besides, it's pretty interesting being dead. Not that I wouldn't rather be alive, mind you, but it's better than most of the Muggles and wizards think." Cedric's tone was far too cheerful for someone talking about his own death, and there was a bright smile on his striking face.
"So-so my parents are all right?" Harry's green eyes searched Cedric's pale gray ones.
An uncomfortable look flitted across the spirit's face before he grinned. "Well, that's the thing. Most spirits can go up to a place we all like to call Elysium and hang out there, but those killed and then not avenged are sort of stuck wandering around the universes for a while." Cedric's next sentence was meant to soothe. "Once someone kills Voldemort, your parents, a bunch of other nice folks, and I will have the option of going to rest at Elysium. Right now, your parents are wandering around a universe where there was no Dark Lord at all." He snickered. "You should have seen your dad's face when he found a universe that had him paired up with Lucius and Lily as a threesome!"
Harry, however, turned green at the thought and the horrible images that accompanied it. "Ugh, my dad in a threesome? That's not something I want to hear about."
"You look exactly like he did when he heard about it. Of course, Lily thought it was hilarious." Cedric smirked. "She's pretty cool about these things. Of course, she turned bright red when she found a universe where she was with Professor Snape."
"You're just telling me this just to make me vomit, aren't you?"
"Sorry, I'll stop." The Hufflepuff was still grinning. "Anyway, now that I've told you, could you stop moping and actually get healthy? Your parents were not amused when I popped in and found out that you hadn't been eating or sleeping."
"Why didn't they come with you?" There was almost a pitiful note to Harry's voice, and Cedric's grin faded a little.
"Oh, they'll come to visit soon. I just asked to speak to you in private since your parents would get all choked up and you'd completely ignore me if I tried to explain everything."
Harry blinked, but the other boy's logic made sense and he reluctantly nodded. "Okay, I get it. I promise I'll try to start eating better-as long as this universe's Madam Pomfrey stops drugging me. That's just bloody annoying."
"Want me to haunt her?" Cedric offered, making Harry laugh. "Of course, it wouldn't be much of a haunting since-"
. . .
"Harry!" The cried name made the Gryffindor blink and bolt upright, his vision blurred once more. His sleep-addled brain was bewildered, and he wondered where Cedric was.
Someone slipped his glasses onto his face, and he saw the concerned face of Madam Pomfrey gazing at him. Instantaneously, the drowsiness vanished, replaced by pure annoyance. "Why the hell did you wake me?" he snarled, surprised at the venom in his words. "I was having a /nice/ dream."
The nurse huffed before pressing a hand to his forehead. "It's time for breakfast, and I thought you'd like to have some food. Then you wouldn't wake up, and I was worried."
"It's called a /deep/ sleep for a reason." Harry grouched for a few more seconds before the smell of biscuits caressed his senses. For the first time in a long while he felt ravenous with no thought of the fact that Cedric wouldn't be able to eat the biscuits he was about to devour.
The warm tray settled upon his lap, the heat soaking into his thighs and stomach and warming him. He actually smiled before tucking in, each bite only increasing his desire for the meal. Cedric's affectionate words washed over him as he consumed the biscuits, and for the first time in what seemed forever, Harry felt at peace.
"Harry?" The soft whisper met his ears and made the boy pause, turning his green gaze in the direction of the nearby bed.
"Yes—Tom, isn't it?" He was a much better actor than he thought. Did wizards have theaters and that sort of thing? Maybe he would try a few productions after graduation. If he ever got home, that is. "Ron was pointing some of you out, especially the people in my year." Harry couldn't help but add hastily, "I'm in my fifth year like you, in case you can't tell." Madam Pomfrey had vanished, apparently back to her office.
"Sorry, I'm not very good at judging ages." There was a somewhat sheepish note to Tom Riddle's voice, and the Boy Who Lived found himself gazing at the other boy in wonder. Had his universe's Tom ever looked this carefree and pure? As Harry watched, the nephew of James Potter looked embarrassed once more. "Listen, I was wondering—why do you hate Madam Pomfrey so much?"
"Would you like someone who keeps drugging you and stuffing food down your throat?" Harry inquired with a note of sarcasm in his voice as his aggravation at this universe's Madam Pomfrey was invoked.
"Well, no, but she's actually a very nice person-"
"I'll believe that when I see it." The Boy Who Lived cut the other boy off, his tone polite but curt. He glanced at Tom and noticed that the other boy had only a cup of steaming liquid in his hands. "Did you already eat?"
"Oh, yeah. Madam Pomfrey's just having me drink some of her specialized tea. I'll be going to class soon, and you'll be stuck all by yourself in this lovely infirmary." The Riddle offered Harry a teasing grin, which the latter slowly returned.
"Any way to waylaid her?"
"Nope. You haven't got a chance, my Durmstrang friend."
"Bloody hell. Oh, and since you already seem to know about my former school, how fast does word travel in Hogwarts?"
"Well, let me put it this way. If it's a secret, then the whole school will eventually know about it."
"Let me repeat: bloody hell," moaned Harry, although he had already known that.
Tom chuckled and offered him a sympathetic look at the same time. "You get used to it."
"Secrets stayed secrets where I'm from." Shaking his head, the brunet tilted his head thoughtfully. "And there definitely weren't as many unusual relationships."
His fellow brunet blushed and glanced away. "Um, well, I hope it doesn't bother you. Dumbledore encourages us to find true love, in case something should happen." Tom's tone darkened at the final part of the sentence.
"Yeah, Ron mentioned something along the lines of that. I'm just finding it hard to take in, I guess." Harry offered Tom a sheepish smile of his own, and tried to think of what Dumbledore had told him to say. "My parents—one's Muggle-born and the other's not—never really talked to me about-" The Potter felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment because he couldn't quite say the word, and finally ended with, "-same-sex relationships. I guess they think I'm an innocent." A sarcastic curve twisted his lips.
Tom looked relieved. "Oh, don't worry. Not many magical schools are as open about homosexuality as Hogwarts is." His look shifted to one of curiousness. "Do you have a preference?"
If Harry had thought his cheeks had been warm struggling to say the word homosexuality, it was nothing compared to the fact that his entire face felt like he had just stuck his face into a roaring fireplace. His face was probably the color of a tomato. "I-I, um-" His tongue felt suddenly leaden in his mouth as he considered his crush on Cho Chang.
"Sorry, I shouldn't pry. It's your own business." Tom's voice was apologetic.
Finally his tongue loosened, and the statement slipped from his lips before his brain even registered the words. "I heard you two."
All color fled Tom's face, and the Gryffindor looked nervous. "What?"
"I heard you two, you and Charlie. I won't tell anyone though, I promise. I- I pretended to be asleep because I didn't want to bother you, but I could hear your voices talking about Seamus and Draco and some people named Bill and Severus, and that Charlie has some sort of secret lover. I won't tell!" The final sentence escaped him in a rush, and Harry sagged against the pillows.
"Please don't," Tom said, his smile weak. "His boyfriend's father would kill Charlie since he's more than a tad homophobic."
"Tom?" Both brunets turned their heads towards the door, and Harry found himself gawking at the two figures standing there.
"Oh, hello, Bill! Hi Severus!" he heard Tom state cheerfully as the Boy Who Lived lowered his gaze to his plate of biscuits and tried to figure out how on earth Snape had been changed so much.
(To be continued)
