Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me.
Chapter 4
"Tom Riddle, meet your new partner Harry Potter."
The smile on Harry's face froze and slowly disappeared.
"W-what?" he stammered, not sure if he heard correctly. Hagrid gave him a measured look.
"Mr. Riddle, stop standing and trying to catch flies. Now come over here and meet your new partner," Hagrid ordered firmly, but kindly.
"But professor," Tom protested, darting a quick glance to the other black haired boy who was currently burning a hole in the ground with his glare. "I-we-I can't. Potter-he's, I mean, he's in Gryffindor for Merlin's sake!"
"Oh and working with you is going to be a stroll in the park for me too?" Harry asked sarcastically. Tom glared and Harry glared right back. The two shades of green eyes clashed and both looked away at the same time as they felt something pass between them.
The large professor coughed and a stern look came over his face.
"Please, gentlemen. Aren't you a little old for house prejudices? Mr. Riddle, you're the head boy for crying out loud. Mr. Potter, I heard that you too were the head boy in your world. I'm sure you two can approach this in a mature manner," Hagrid quickly injected, seeing the murderous look on both the teens' faces.
Tom Riddle felt shock run through him. Harry Potter, head boy? Huh? That self-aloof, prejudiced, bastard of a human was head boy? What was the Dumbledore of his world thinking?
Harry Potter meanwhile was feeling the same thing. Tom Riddle, head boy? What? How can that evil, manipulating git become head boy? What was the Dumbledore of this world thinking?
"But Ha- I mean, professor," Harry started in a calm, soothing voice, suited exactly for getting what he wanted. He had learnt how to deal with unco-operative children when Hogwarts became a safe haven for all magic people in his world and knew exactly the tone of voice to use when he wanted the students to listen to him.
"You really are making a big mistake. After all, Riddle here is in Slytherin and I'm in Gryffindor. Even without house prejudices, we're different people and we will *not* get along."
Hagrid just looked amused and Harry got the distinct feeling that the professor knew exactly what he was trying to pull.
"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but this is Professor Dumbledore's orders. He wanted you two to work together. Said something about building friendships," Hagrid answered, eyes twinkling knowingly. Harry closed his mouth with a snap.
Crap.
What was he supposed to say now? Even in this world he could clearly see the devotion Hagrid had towards the old man.
Double crap.
Glancing over at Tom, Harry could see that the other teen was looking just as put out as he was feeling.
Suddenly Harry smiled.
It was not a nice smile. In fact, it looked rather evil to Tom's mind and he shivered unconsciously. He noted that he'd better watch out for Harry Potter in the future. Nobody smiled like that without something up their sleeves.
Harry shuffled over to where Tom was standing. If Dumbledore insisted that he and the spawn of the devil worked together, he wouldn't argue. He'll just make Tom Riddle's life a living hell so that Dumbledore would have to separate them if he didn't want lives or sanity lost.
~~*~~
"POTTER!" Tom Riddle roared twenty minutes later. All heads snapped towards the two boys in time to see Harry leaning back on his heels and smirking whilst a disgusted Tom Riddle was furiously wiping his foot on the ground. Everybody could clearly see where the Slytherin was so angry.
It seemed that Tom had stepped into a pile of dung that the creature they were studying that day had gracefully left for him.
"Oops, sorry," Harry drawled, not sounding sorry at all. "Did I forget to mention that? It seemed that our r'higéria had a call of nature to answer while you went to get the food. I apologize for not mentioning it. I thought you would notice it."
Tom Riddle clenched his jaw and glared at the smirking Gryffindor. Now he could see why he was James Potter's son and Sirius Black's godson. He fucking acted like a child when he damn well wanted to.
"And pray tell," Tom began in a forcefully calm voice, which did nothing to hide the fury he was feeling. "How was I supposed to see the ground when the food I am carrying is twice as high as I am?"
Harry shrugged nonchalantly.
"That's not my problem. You refused my help."
"You never offered to help."
"And would you have accepted it if I had offered?"
Tom clenched his jaw again. Damn the Potter brat two times. He was right and he knew it. He wouldn't have accepted his help if his life depended on it.
"Exactly," Harry said as if the matter was cleared up. "Now don't dawdle and bring the food here. Can't you see that the r'higéria is getting impatient?"
Harry laughed inwardly as he saw Tom's face flush with anger. He knew he was being a dickhead and he couldn't care less. After all, this was Tom Riddle he was talking about. Tom Riddle, the man who killed his parents.
Well, technically speaking, he didn't, a nagging voice sounded in his head. The Tom Riddle that killed your parent you killed already. This Tom Riddle is just another seventeen year old boy. And you're being a jackass. Stop being so unreasonable and at least get to know him. He can't be that bad.
Harry frowned and pushed the disturbing thought out of his mind.
However the damage was done and Harry knew it. Every time he acted like a bastard to Tom, he knew a feeling of guilt would wash over him. Damn that voice. Why can't he just hate the other boy in peace?
Because you're wrong about him and you know it.
~~*~~
Tom muttered darkly as he stalked back to the castle after the lesson ended. If he had looked back then he would have seen the remorseful look on Harry's face and the regret in his eyes that flashed for a second before it was squashed by Potter stubbornness (which Hermione often argues was just plain idiocy).
~~*~~
Harry trudged back to the castle, in the midst of cheers and congratulations by his peers.
"Wow Harry, I'd never seen anyone get under Riddle's skin like you," Lavender said breathlessly. Harry smiled uneasily, craning his neck around looking for a way out.
"Yeah that was totally cool," Seamus said in his thick Irish accent. Harry glanced at the red-headed boy and flashed him a genuine grin.
"Thanks, though I think I over did it today," he admitted, trying to satisfy the nagging voice in the back of his mind.
"Nah, he's a Slytherin," Dean answered with a grin. Harry grinned back but was troubled on the inside. Slytherins weren't that bad. He should know. After all, one of his closest (though not necessarily the nicest) friend was in Slytherin.
"I had a friend," Harry said finally. "That would've made Slytherin proud. But we were still good friends."
"Then he wasn't meant to be in Slytherin," Neville butted in. "Either that or he was putting on a face to fool you."
Harry frowned and muttered a quick excuse before escaping.
Even Ron had accepted his friendship to Draco in his world. Was Neville really that blinded by house prejudices to see what good friends Slytherins could be?
Sighing Harry stepped into the warm hall of the castle. He had divination and he was not looking forward to the trek up to the tower classroom.
~~*~~
Grunting in disgust Harry quickly descended the ladder. It was good to know that at least one person hadn't changed in this world. Professor Trelawney was still as misty-eyed and incense driven as she was in his world.
Walking briskly away Harry didn't notice the hand reaching for his shoulder until it actually landed on his shoulder. Twisting away from the painful grip, Harry grabbed the attacker's wrist in an unrelenting grip. During the war, he had learned some moves from a wizard that had stayed at the castle. Whilst it wasn't a black belt, it was better than nothing and had saved his life quite a few times in the skirmishes between the Light and the Dark side. It had also improved his reflexes and strength, making him stronger than he actually looked.
He regained his balance and glared into the face of his assailant. He was faced with two surprised and angry blue eyes. In fact, they were exactly like the eyes of his father. Swearing harshly under his breath, Harry released the wrist. He knew that this strangely familiar boy in front of him was Cameron Potter, his brother.
"What the hell did you do that for?" Harry snapped. Cameron glared back.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" the younger boy hissed. "You made mum all upset and she's been crying every since you came back. All I ever hear is Harry James Potter and now that you're here, you can't even think of other people and their feelings. Why don't you go back to your world?"
Harry gritted his teeth. He did not want to get into a fight with his brother, but his last statement had crossed the line.
"Don't you think I want to? If I could I would be there already. But thanks to Tom Riddle I'm stuck here for the rest of my life. So I'm sorry that I made your mum all upset and everything, but what I said was the truth and if she can't accept it then it's not my fault."
With that, Harry brushed past the shocked fifth year.
"She's your mother too!" Cameron called out, seemingly unaware of the attention they had attracted from the other students. Harry paused and looked back.
"When she treats me like me and not like the Harry she lost all those years ago you might be able to say that. But as long as she sees me as someone else, she's your mother and not mine."
~~*~~
Harry had lost his appetite. After his little confrontation with his brother, which by now, had spread all over the school, he felt sick. It wasn't fair how everything happened to him. Why can't fate or destiny or whatever just leave him the hell alone and let him live his own life?
Abruptly, Harry stood up, startling several of the surrounding people. He felt trapped, like an animal, in the school. He had to get out. He had to fly
Without another word, Harry ran from the hall and up to the Gryffindor common room, tears blurring his vision. He was so sick of his life.
Refusing to let the tears fall, Harry leaned against a wall and took several deep breaths. Once he was sure he had his emotions under control, Harry walked calmly back up to his house dorm.
Opening his trunk, Harry prayed to God that Dumbledore had thought to include a broomstick in his new belongings. Pushing articles of clothes out of the way, Harry beamed when he felt the handle of what was unmistakably a broom.
"Oh Dumbledore, my new hero," Harry muttered gratefully and withdrew the broom. Looking at the handle he smiled when he realised that it was a Nimbus 2001. Whilst it was nothing like his Firebolt, it wasn't a bad broom either. Grasping the handle firmly Harry walked quickly out of his dormitory.
~~*~~
Ten minutes later, Harry soared up into the night sky, enjoying the cold night air on his face. Flying at a breakneck speed, Harry flattened himself against his new broom and tried to adjust to its speed and weight. After flying on his Firebolt for so long, adjusting to a new broom was harder than he thought.
Letting his attention wander, Harry looked up into the night sky and watched the stars. It felt good to be able to fly again.
His attention was caught, at that moment, by the faint sound of someone crying. Twisting on his broomstick, Harry could just make out a figure hunched up near in the shadow of the castle and obviously crying. Silently flying over, Harry felt his concern grow as he realised the figure was Hermione.
Landing a few steps away, he smiled warmly as he saw her head snap up and her frightened eyes watching him warily.
"Hello Hermione," Harry greeted softly and saw her tense up.
"H-how do you know my name?" Hermione asked, not sure what the strange Gryffindor wanted.
"You were my friend in my world," Harry explained walking until he stood next to her. Hermione relaxed and smiled back at him, her friendly nature showing through her eyes. Harry bobbed down to her level.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked softly. Hermione looked away, fresh tears springing into her eyes.
"Nothing," she said meekly. Harry sighed and smoothed her hair out. He didn't know what to say. She was so different from the Hermione in his world. The Hermione he knew would never cry in the dark like this. She would rather go and confront her problems than cry about them. She always told him that crying over problems did no good and he might as well go and solve them.
Looking at this Hermione, Harry could clearly pick out the differences. This Hermione was not as strong as the other and she obviously lacked the freakish bookworm intelligence the other processed.
"It's not nothing. If it was, you wouldn't be crying," Harry pointed out and Hermione sniffed softly.
"It's Ronald Weasley," she admitted finally. Harry stiffened and froze. Ron Weasley? Ron would never hurt Hermione. Shaking himself out of his stupor, Harry grinned mirthlessly. Of course Ron could. After all, the red haired boy was in Slytherin in this world and Hermione was in Hufflepuff. He would be crazy to think that Slytherins didn't pick on the easy-going Hufflepuffs.
"What did he do?" Harry asked gently. Without warning Hermione threw herself into his arms and started to bawl.
"He's always picking on me," she sobbed into his chest. "And only me! He always takes points off me."
Harry relaxed and almost smiled. So that was what all the fuss was about.
"Hermione," Harry said soothingly. "Ron Weasley's a git and he always will be. He likes to pick on people and even though he picks on you, it doesn't mean it's your fault. He just puts others down to make himself feel more important. Do you understand me?"
Hermione nodded and her sobbing slowly ceased. As if realising where she was, Hermione withdrew, her cheeks red.
"Thanks for listening to me," she said and stood up. Harry scrambled up as well and smiled again.
"No sweat," he said with a wink. "I can always find time to help a friend with their problems."
Hermione blushed again as she heard herself being referred to as Harry's friend.
"Well," Hermione started. "It's late and I still have homework to finish. Goodnight Harry."
Harry waved his hand in response and watched silently as Hermione ran back to the castle. Still deep in thought, Harry bent down and scooped up his broomstick. Hermione was so different, but the more he had talked to her that night, the more similarities he had found. The Hermione in his world would have been this Hermione had she been sorted into Hufflepuff.
Feeling quite elated that he had made his first real friend in this new world; Harry shouldered his broomstick and headed for his common room, intent on finishing his own pile of homework.
~~*~~
Lucius watched the fire burn in his fireplace. So Harry Potter was back? He snorted softly and swirled the glass of wine in his hand slowly, watching the liquid. He should've known that that Potter brat would somehow manage to thwart his plans, even from the grave.
"Daddy?"
Lucius was shaken out of his thoughts as Isabelle Malfoy knocked softly on the door and peeked inside. Lucius turned and smiled at his daughter.
"What is it?" he asked as Isabelle stepped into the room.
"Does Madame Haggins have to be my tutor? Why can't I go to Hogwarts?" Isabelle asked. Lucius sighed and set his glass down. He turned and gave his daughter a tired look.
"Isabelle," he started. "You know the answer to that already. And we have been through all this already," he commented tiredly.
Isabelle sighed as well.
"I know, but Daddy I hate it here! I hate being cooped up all day! Why can't I go out?" Isabelle asked, knowing she was whining and not really caring. She had been trapped in the manor ever since she was fifteen and she longed for the outside world. Sure, she'd be able to fly whenever she wanted and go out occasionally, but it was not like the freedom she was used to.
Lucius ran a hand through is hair and sighed again.
"Isabelle you know exactly why!" he snapped, losing patience. Isabelle pursed her lips together and glared at her father.
"I hate you," she said softly before turning and running out of the room.
Lucius sank into his chair and covered his face with his hands. Some days he wondered if all this taking-over-the-world crap was worth the pain. Then he thought of his wife.
Yes, it was. If only for revenge for Narcissa, it was definitely worth it.
~~*~~
Isabelle slammed the door to her room behind her and threw herself on to the bed. Burying her face into the fluffy pillows she took deep breaths trying to calm herself. She regretted her words to her father. She didn't hate him. She loved him, but in the heat of the moment, the words had slipped out without her knowing.
However, she was sure about one thing. If she was going to be cooped up in the house for one more day, she was going to go crazy.
It was official then. Isabelle Malfoy was going to run away.
~~*~~
Harry yawned and stretched the next morning as he sat up in his bed. Blinking the last remains of sleep from his eyes, Harry got out of bed slowly. Grabbing the robe from the ground where he had thrown it the night before, he raised it to his face and sniffed.
Making a face, Harry held it at arms length. God, he felt sick.
Rummaging around the pockets for anything that he didn't want washed by the house elves, Harry's hand closed around on a piece of parchment. Pulling it out, he was surprised to see that it was an assignment he had completed for DADA that year. It was, as Harry skimmed it, on the rise and fall of Voldemort.
Oh yeah, now he remembered, Harry thought wryly, looking at the parchment. Their new professor had been so eager to learn about Voldemort's history that he hadn't even spared a thought to Harry's feelings on writing on the matter so soon after the battle.
So, not wanting to make an enemy of the new professor, Harry had complied grudgingly and gave a vague outline on the rise and fall on Voldemort. It had brought back painful memories, but pain was something that Harry was used to.
"What you doing Harry?" Seamus asked as he parted the hangings from his bed. Harry clutched the parchment tightly in his hands and hoped that Seamus hadn't seen it.
"Uh, checking to see if I want anything washed by the house elves," Harry replied quickly, picking up random articles of clothing as if to prove his point. Seamus nodded and staggered into the shower, banging his knees on several pieces of furniture on the way. Harry smirked as he saw this. Looks like Seamus will never change.
~~*~~
As Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table, the tension was so thick in the air, everybody felt as if they could actually reach out and grab it. Harry avoided looking at his brother as he didn't want to start something in the hall.
It was when he was stuffing the last of his toast in his mouth that Harry felt the presence behind him. His hand diving for his wand in such a manner that didn't attract attention, Harry turned slowly, ready to confront this presence. Gripping his wand tightly, the stunning curse was on his tongue, ready to be used at a moment's notice.
However, all thoughts of cursing left his mind as Harry saw who was standing in front of him.
Rose Margaret Potter.
~~*~~
A/N that wasn't such a long wait, was it? Mmm...... anyways, thanks for all the reviews! I love you all!
Chapter 4
"Tom Riddle, meet your new partner Harry Potter."
The smile on Harry's face froze and slowly disappeared.
"W-what?" he stammered, not sure if he heard correctly. Hagrid gave him a measured look.
"Mr. Riddle, stop standing and trying to catch flies. Now come over here and meet your new partner," Hagrid ordered firmly, but kindly.
"But professor," Tom protested, darting a quick glance to the other black haired boy who was currently burning a hole in the ground with his glare. "I-we-I can't. Potter-he's, I mean, he's in Gryffindor for Merlin's sake!"
"Oh and working with you is going to be a stroll in the park for me too?" Harry asked sarcastically. Tom glared and Harry glared right back. The two shades of green eyes clashed and both looked away at the same time as they felt something pass between them.
The large professor coughed and a stern look came over his face.
"Please, gentlemen. Aren't you a little old for house prejudices? Mr. Riddle, you're the head boy for crying out loud. Mr. Potter, I heard that you too were the head boy in your world. I'm sure you two can approach this in a mature manner," Hagrid quickly injected, seeing the murderous look on both the teens' faces.
Tom Riddle felt shock run through him. Harry Potter, head boy? Huh? That self-aloof, prejudiced, bastard of a human was head boy? What was the Dumbledore of his world thinking?
Harry Potter meanwhile was feeling the same thing. Tom Riddle, head boy? What? How can that evil, manipulating git become head boy? What was the Dumbledore of this world thinking?
"But Ha- I mean, professor," Harry started in a calm, soothing voice, suited exactly for getting what he wanted. He had learnt how to deal with unco-operative children when Hogwarts became a safe haven for all magic people in his world and knew exactly the tone of voice to use when he wanted the students to listen to him.
"You really are making a big mistake. After all, Riddle here is in Slytherin and I'm in Gryffindor. Even without house prejudices, we're different people and we will *not* get along."
Hagrid just looked amused and Harry got the distinct feeling that the professor knew exactly what he was trying to pull.
"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but this is Professor Dumbledore's orders. He wanted you two to work together. Said something about building friendships," Hagrid answered, eyes twinkling knowingly. Harry closed his mouth with a snap.
Crap.
What was he supposed to say now? Even in this world he could clearly see the devotion Hagrid had towards the old man.
Double crap.
Glancing over at Tom, Harry could see that the other teen was looking just as put out as he was feeling.
Suddenly Harry smiled.
It was not a nice smile. In fact, it looked rather evil to Tom's mind and he shivered unconsciously. He noted that he'd better watch out for Harry Potter in the future. Nobody smiled like that without something up their sleeves.
Harry shuffled over to where Tom was standing. If Dumbledore insisted that he and the spawn of the devil worked together, he wouldn't argue. He'll just make Tom Riddle's life a living hell so that Dumbledore would have to separate them if he didn't want lives or sanity lost.
~~*~~
"POTTER!" Tom Riddle roared twenty minutes later. All heads snapped towards the two boys in time to see Harry leaning back on his heels and smirking whilst a disgusted Tom Riddle was furiously wiping his foot on the ground. Everybody could clearly see where the Slytherin was so angry.
It seemed that Tom had stepped into a pile of dung that the creature they were studying that day had gracefully left for him.
"Oops, sorry," Harry drawled, not sounding sorry at all. "Did I forget to mention that? It seemed that our r'higéria had a call of nature to answer while you went to get the food. I apologize for not mentioning it. I thought you would notice it."
Tom Riddle clenched his jaw and glared at the smirking Gryffindor. Now he could see why he was James Potter's son and Sirius Black's godson. He fucking acted like a child when he damn well wanted to.
"And pray tell," Tom began in a forcefully calm voice, which did nothing to hide the fury he was feeling. "How was I supposed to see the ground when the food I am carrying is twice as high as I am?"
Harry shrugged nonchalantly.
"That's not my problem. You refused my help."
"You never offered to help."
"And would you have accepted it if I had offered?"
Tom clenched his jaw again. Damn the Potter brat two times. He was right and he knew it. He wouldn't have accepted his help if his life depended on it.
"Exactly," Harry said as if the matter was cleared up. "Now don't dawdle and bring the food here. Can't you see that the r'higéria is getting impatient?"
Harry laughed inwardly as he saw Tom's face flush with anger. He knew he was being a dickhead and he couldn't care less. After all, this was Tom Riddle he was talking about. Tom Riddle, the man who killed his parents.
Well, technically speaking, he didn't, a nagging voice sounded in his head. The Tom Riddle that killed your parent you killed already. This Tom Riddle is just another seventeen year old boy. And you're being a jackass. Stop being so unreasonable and at least get to know him. He can't be that bad.
Harry frowned and pushed the disturbing thought out of his mind.
However the damage was done and Harry knew it. Every time he acted like a bastard to Tom, he knew a feeling of guilt would wash over him. Damn that voice. Why can't he just hate the other boy in peace?
Because you're wrong about him and you know it.
~~*~~
Tom muttered darkly as he stalked back to the castle after the lesson ended. If he had looked back then he would have seen the remorseful look on Harry's face and the regret in his eyes that flashed for a second before it was squashed by Potter stubbornness (which Hermione often argues was just plain idiocy).
~~*~~
Harry trudged back to the castle, in the midst of cheers and congratulations by his peers.
"Wow Harry, I'd never seen anyone get under Riddle's skin like you," Lavender said breathlessly. Harry smiled uneasily, craning his neck around looking for a way out.
"Yeah that was totally cool," Seamus said in his thick Irish accent. Harry glanced at the red-headed boy and flashed him a genuine grin.
"Thanks, though I think I over did it today," he admitted, trying to satisfy the nagging voice in the back of his mind.
"Nah, he's a Slytherin," Dean answered with a grin. Harry grinned back but was troubled on the inside. Slytherins weren't that bad. He should know. After all, one of his closest (though not necessarily the nicest) friend was in Slytherin.
"I had a friend," Harry said finally. "That would've made Slytherin proud. But we were still good friends."
"Then he wasn't meant to be in Slytherin," Neville butted in. "Either that or he was putting on a face to fool you."
Harry frowned and muttered a quick excuse before escaping.
Even Ron had accepted his friendship to Draco in his world. Was Neville really that blinded by house prejudices to see what good friends Slytherins could be?
Sighing Harry stepped into the warm hall of the castle. He had divination and he was not looking forward to the trek up to the tower classroom.
~~*~~
Grunting in disgust Harry quickly descended the ladder. It was good to know that at least one person hadn't changed in this world. Professor Trelawney was still as misty-eyed and incense driven as she was in his world.
Walking briskly away Harry didn't notice the hand reaching for his shoulder until it actually landed on his shoulder. Twisting away from the painful grip, Harry grabbed the attacker's wrist in an unrelenting grip. During the war, he had learned some moves from a wizard that had stayed at the castle. Whilst it wasn't a black belt, it was better than nothing and had saved his life quite a few times in the skirmishes between the Light and the Dark side. It had also improved his reflexes and strength, making him stronger than he actually looked.
He regained his balance and glared into the face of his assailant. He was faced with two surprised and angry blue eyes. In fact, they were exactly like the eyes of his father. Swearing harshly under his breath, Harry released the wrist. He knew that this strangely familiar boy in front of him was Cameron Potter, his brother.
"What the hell did you do that for?" Harry snapped. Cameron glared back.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" the younger boy hissed. "You made mum all upset and she's been crying every since you came back. All I ever hear is Harry James Potter and now that you're here, you can't even think of other people and their feelings. Why don't you go back to your world?"
Harry gritted his teeth. He did not want to get into a fight with his brother, but his last statement had crossed the line.
"Don't you think I want to? If I could I would be there already. But thanks to Tom Riddle I'm stuck here for the rest of my life. So I'm sorry that I made your mum all upset and everything, but what I said was the truth and if she can't accept it then it's not my fault."
With that, Harry brushed past the shocked fifth year.
"She's your mother too!" Cameron called out, seemingly unaware of the attention they had attracted from the other students. Harry paused and looked back.
"When she treats me like me and not like the Harry she lost all those years ago you might be able to say that. But as long as she sees me as someone else, she's your mother and not mine."
~~*~~
Harry had lost his appetite. After his little confrontation with his brother, which by now, had spread all over the school, he felt sick. It wasn't fair how everything happened to him. Why can't fate or destiny or whatever just leave him the hell alone and let him live his own life?
Abruptly, Harry stood up, startling several of the surrounding people. He felt trapped, like an animal, in the school. He had to get out. He had to fly
Without another word, Harry ran from the hall and up to the Gryffindor common room, tears blurring his vision. He was so sick of his life.
Refusing to let the tears fall, Harry leaned against a wall and took several deep breaths. Once he was sure he had his emotions under control, Harry walked calmly back up to his house dorm.
Opening his trunk, Harry prayed to God that Dumbledore had thought to include a broomstick in his new belongings. Pushing articles of clothes out of the way, Harry beamed when he felt the handle of what was unmistakably a broom.
"Oh Dumbledore, my new hero," Harry muttered gratefully and withdrew the broom. Looking at the handle he smiled when he realised that it was a Nimbus 2001. Whilst it was nothing like his Firebolt, it wasn't a bad broom either. Grasping the handle firmly Harry walked quickly out of his dormitory.
~~*~~
Ten minutes later, Harry soared up into the night sky, enjoying the cold night air on his face. Flying at a breakneck speed, Harry flattened himself against his new broom and tried to adjust to its speed and weight. After flying on his Firebolt for so long, adjusting to a new broom was harder than he thought.
Letting his attention wander, Harry looked up into the night sky and watched the stars. It felt good to be able to fly again.
His attention was caught, at that moment, by the faint sound of someone crying. Twisting on his broomstick, Harry could just make out a figure hunched up near in the shadow of the castle and obviously crying. Silently flying over, Harry felt his concern grow as he realised the figure was Hermione.
Landing a few steps away, he smiled warmly as he saw her head snap up and her frightened eyes watching him warily.
"Hello Hermione," Harry greeted softly and saw her tense up.
"H-how do you know my name?" Hermione asked, not sure what the strange Gryffindor wanted.
"You were my friend in my world," Harry explained walking until he stood next to her. Hermione relaxed and smiled back at him, her friendly nature showing through her eyes. Harry bobbed down to her level.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked softly. Hermione looked away, fresh tears springing into her eyes.
"Nothing," she said meekly. Harry sighed and smoothed her hair out. He didn't know what to say. She was so different from the Hermione in his world. The Hermione he knew would never cry in the dark like this. She would rather go and confront her problems than cry about them. She always told him that crying over problems did no good and he might as well go and solve them.
Looking at this Hermione, Harry could clearly pick out the differences. This Hermione was not as strong as the other and she obviously lacked the freakish bookworm intelligence the other processed.
"It's not nothing. If it was, you wouldn't be crying," Harry pointed out and Hermione sniffed softly.
"It's Ronald Weasley," she admitted finally. Harry stiffened and froze. Ron Weasley? Ron would never hurt Hermione. Shaking himself out of his stupor, Harry grinned mirthlessly. Of course Ron could. After all, the red haired boy was in Slytherin in this world and Hermione was in Hufflepuff. He would be crazy to think that Slytherins didn't pick on the easy-going Hufflepuffs.
"What did he do?" Harry asked gently. Without warning Hermione threw herself into his arms and started to bawl.
"He's always picking on me," she sobbed into his chest. "And only me! He always takes points off me."
Harry relaxed and almost smiled. So that was what all the fuss was about.
"Hermione," Harry said soothingly. "Ron Weasley's a git and he always will be. He likes to pick on people and even though he picks on you, it doesn't mean it's your fault. He just puts others down to make himself feel more important. Do you understand me?"
Hermione nodded and her sobbing slowly ceased. As if realising where she was, Hermione withdrew, her cheeks red.
"Thanks for listening to me," she said and stood up. Harry scrambled up as well and smiled again.
"No sweat," he said with a wink. "I can always find time to help a friend with their problems."
Hermione blushed again as she heard herself being referred to as Harry's friend.
"Well," Hermione started. "It's late and I still have homework to finish. Goodnight Harry."
Harry waved his hand in response and watched silently as Hermione ran back to the castle. Still deep in thought, Harry bent down and scooped up his broomstick. Hermione was so different, but the more he had talked to her that night, the more similarities he had found. The Hermione in his world would have been this Hermione had she been sorted into Hufflepuff.
Feeling quite elated that he had made his first real friend in this new world; Harry shouldered his broomstick and headed for his common room, intent on finishing his own pile of homework.
~~*~~
Lucius watched the fire burn in his fireplace. So Harry Potter was back? He snorted softly and swirled the glass of wine in his hand slowly, watching the liquid. He should've known that that Potter brat would somehow manage to thwart his plans, even from the grave.
"Daddy?"
Lucius was shaken out of his thoughts as Isabelle Malfoy knocked softly on the door and peeked inside. Lucius turned and smiled at his daughter.
"What is it?" he asked as Isabelle stepped into the room.
"Does Madame Haggins have to be my tutor? Why can't I go to Hogwarts?" Isabelle asked. Lucius sighed and set his glass down. He turned and gave his daughter a tired look.
"Isabelle," he started. "You know the answer to that already. And we have been through all this already," he commented tiredly.
Isabelle sighed as well.
"I know, but Daddy I hate it here! I hate being cooped up all day! Why can't I go out?" Isabelle asked, knowing she was whining and not really caring. She had been trapped in the manor ever since she was fifteen and she longed for the outside world. Sure, she'd be able to fly whenever she wanted and go out occasionally, but it was not like the freedom she was used to.
Lucius ran a hand through is hair and sighed again.
"Isabelle you know exactly why!" he snapped, losing patience. Isabelle pursed her lips together and glared at her father.
"I hate you," she said softly before turning and running out of the room.
Lucius sank into his chair and covered his face with his hands. Some days he wondered if all this taking-over-the-world crap was worth the pain. Then he thought of his wife.
Yes, it was. If only for revenge for Narcissa, it was definitely worth it.
~~*~~
Isabelle slammed the door to her room behind her and threw herself on to the bed. Burying her face into the fluffy pillows she took deep breaths trying to calm herself. She regretted her words to her father. She didn't hate him. She loved him, but in the heat of the moment, the words had slipped out without her knowing.
However, she was sure about one thing. If she was going to be cooped up in the house for one more day, she was going to go crazy.
It was official then. Isabelle Malfoy was going to run away.
~~*~~
Harry yawned and stretched the next morning as he sat up in his bed. Blinking the last remains of sleep from his eyes, Harry got out of bed slowly. Grabbing the robe from the ground where he had thrown it the night before, he raised it to his face and sniffed.
Making a face, Harry held it at arms length. God, he felt sick.
Rummaging around the pockets for anything that he didn't want washed by the house elves, Harry's hand closed around on a piece of parchment. Pulling it out, he was surprised to see that it was an assignment he had completed for DADA that year. It was, as Harry skimmed it, on the rise and fall of Voldemort.
Oh yeah, now he remembered, Harry thought wryly, looking at the parchment. Their new professor had been so eager to learn about Voldemort's history that he hadn't even spared a thought to Harry's feelings on writing on the matter so soon after the battle.
So, not wanting to make an enemy of the new professor, Harry had complied grudgingly and gave a vague outline on the rise and fall on Voldemort. It had brought back painful memories, but pain was something that Harry was used to.
"What you doing Harry?" Seamus asked as he parted the hangings from his bed. Harry clutched the parchment tightly in his hands and hoped that Seamus hadn't seen it.
"Uh, checking to see if I want anything washed by the house elves," Harry replied quickly, picking up random articles of clothing as if to prove his point. Seamus nodded and staggered into the shower, banging his knees on several pieces of furniture on the way. Harry smirked as he saw this. Looks like Seamus will never change.
~~*~~
As Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table, the tension was so thick in the air, everybody felt as if they could actually reach out and grab it. Harry avoided looking at his brother as he didn't want to start something in the hall.
It was when he was stuffing the last of his toast in his mouth that Harry felt the presence behind him. His hand diving for his wand in such a manner that didn't attract attention, Harry turned slowly, ready to confront this presence. Gripping his wand tightly, the stunning curse was on his tongue, ready to be used at a moment's notice.
However, all thoughts of cursing left his mind as Harry saw who was standing in front of him.
Rose Margaret Potter.
~~*~~
A/N that wasn't such a long wait, was it? Mmm...... anyways, thanks for all the reviews! I love you all!