Chapter 12. The Stag

Harry found it very difficult to pay attention to the rest of the Defense class what with the ghost of Tom's wand lingering on his neck and all. Not even Professor Merrythought's raving praise of his Patronus (or her brutal critique of Harry's "otherwise abysmal" spell repertoire) had managed to hold his attention for very long. He just kept catching his hand drifting to his neck and his mind to Tom.

He didn't know why.

"—and a two-foot reflection on how you could have improved your performance in today's duel. Dismissed!"

Harry barely had time to register Professor Merrythought's words before—

"A Patronus!"

The outcry burst against Harry's eardrum and he recoiled. "God Minnie, volume," he complained, "I'm sitting right next to you!"

Professor Merrythought had wasted no time (after ensuring everyone was alive and awake) before re-conjuring the desks, fortunately sparing Harry the awkwardness of talking to Tom after he'd grabbed a fistful of Harry's robes and yanked him up. Unfortunately, however, it also meant Minnie's shock had become quite pent up.

"A Patronus!" she repeated, "A corporeal Patronus!"

"A — What?" Harry asked.

"Corporeal? Well-defined?"

He just shook his head.

Minnie blinked, looking absolutely flabbergasted. "Are — Are you telling me... You can make a corporeal Patronus, and you don't know what it is?!"

"Obviously I know what a Patronus is," he said, offended, "Just not that core-pore-al thing."

"First of all," Minnie said, rolling her eyes and beginning to gather her things, "It's corporeal. And secondly, it means your Patronus takes on a defined shape. An animal, to be precise."

"Oh." Harry bent to grab his rucksack. "Well, it didn't always do that."

She snorted. "I should think so. The Patronus charm is notoriously difficult to learn."

"Trust me, I know," Harry said dryly. The amount of chocolate he consumed last year alone...

"On second thought, why on earth did you even learn the Patronus charm?" Minnie asked as she stood from the desk. "That's a NEWT level spell."

Harry faltered as he stood too before deciding on the truth. "Had some trouble with Dementors."

Minnie's eyebrows shot up, "Really?"

"Ye—"

"Harry," a voice interrupted warmly to his left. "Minerva."

Tom was back. And so was that flustered feeling.

"Pardon the interruption."

Harry barely stopped his hand from twitching toward his neck. He swallowed, "It's fine."

Minnie waved her hand as if to say Go on.

"I didn't get to comment on your Patronus before Professor Merrythought resumed class," he explained. "I just wanted to say it was very impressive. That's an advanced piece of magic, that is."

Tom's dark brown eyes were... intense.

"Oh, so he didn't tell you either, then?" Harry heard Minnie ask as he blinked too much. Tom tore his eyes away from him to shake his head at Minnie.

"Not a word," he said, bringing his hand up to his chest as if hurt by the omission. "Can you believe it?"

Minnie's lips twitched and Harry frowned. "Hey, it's not like either of you asked."

"He's got a point," Tom said to Minnie mildly, "How could we have forgotten such a common question?"

Harry scowled.

"You're so right, Riddle," Minnie (the traitor!) said. "When I meet someone new, 'Are you proficient at the NEWT-level defensive spell Expecto Patronum?' is right up there with name, House, and age for me."

Tom grinned.

"Ha ha," Harry deadpanned. "Hilarious."

"Okay but seriously," she said, "Glowing eyes and a corporeal Patronus... Please tell me there's nothing else hidden up your sleeve."

"I killed a Basilisk with a sword once," Harry said because it sounded ridiculous.

Tom laughed, "Sure you did."

Minnie rolled her eyes before casting a quick Tempus. "Damn," she swore, "C'mon Harry, we've got to go if we don't want to run to Herbology."

"Yeah, I'd rather avoid that," he nodded before smiling awkwardly at Tom. "Alright then, see you later, Tom."

"Harry, wait," Tom interrupted as they both made to leave, "Meet me in the library tonight?"

Harry hesitated.

"I still haven't told you what I found this summer," he cajoled with a charming smile.

The Chamber, Harry thought. "Alright then," he agreed. "After dinner?"

Tom's grin grew and he nodded sharply. "After dinner."

"No reliable system for predicting the form of an individual's Patronus has ever been found," Tom read, "although the great eighteenth-century researcher of Charms, Professor Catullus Spangle, set forth certain principles that are—"

"You were missed at dinner."

Tom glanced up from Advanced Charms, Part B: Defensive Applications to find Charles Nott. "I was busy."

He continued reading.

"—set forth certain principles that are widely accepted as true. The Patronus, asserted Spangle, represents that which is hidden, unknown but necessary within the personality. 'For it is evident,' he writes, in his masterwork 'Charms of Defence and Deterrence', '… that a human confronted with inhuman evil, such as the Dementor, must draw upon resources he or she may never have needed, and the Patronus is the awakened secret self that lies dormant until needed, but which must now be brought—"

"You missed it."

Tom looked up again, irritable. Charles had sat down at the chair across from him. "Missed what, Nott?" he asked shortly.

Charles frowned at his tone. "Orion's father finally wrote back about Evans."

"And?"

"He couldn't find anything. On Evans or his parents."

Though a part of Tom had expected it, he was still surprised. "Nothing at all?"

Charles shook his head and Tom leaned back in his chair, letting the textbook fall open onto the table. "Interesting..." he breathed. To hide so well, even from the power of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black... The news only solidified it. "Interesting," he repeated, "but not all too surprising."

Charles quirked an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"It is my belief that 'Evans' may in fact be a false surname," he said quietly.

"How do you know?"

"You are aware that 'Evans' and I are... friendly?"

Charles nodded.

"When we first met, he faltered when introducing himself. Called himself Harry 'Pevans.' Besides... The ability to cast a corporeal Patronus at fourteen? His Sight? He can't be a Mudblood."

In fact, Tom would place bets on Harry being a half-blood like himself.

"In that case, it shouldn't be too difficult to track down the identity of his parents," Charles said. "The gift of Sight is often hereditary."

Tom blinked. "I... hadn't thought of that." He should have thought of that. "Thank you, Charles."

Charles looked pleased until—

"You will track them down then."

"But—"

"Don't worry." Tom rolled his eyes. "If I am successful, you won't need to search for long. Just begin the process."

Charles opened his mouth, most likely to protest more, only to stop as the other teen sent him a sharp look. "...Fine," he acquiesced, "What are you going to do?"

A movement over Nott's shoulder caught his eye and Tom saw Harry walk through the library doors. His eyes narrowed.

"Something I should've done a while ago."

Harry felt a little nervous as he entered the library. He had no idea what Tom was going to tell him, but just the possibility that it could be about the Chamber was enough to make him wary. Not that that would stop him, of course. He was a Gryffindor after all.

The library wasn't very full, it being so close to the beginning of term, so it didn't take him long to find Tom, who was seated across from someone. Somehow Tom had managed to nab the best table, the one close to the window but away from chatty, distracting portraits. It was rare to find anyone under fifth year there. Harry waved and Tom lifted his hand in answer.

As Harry approached, the other person stood.

"I'll look into it," Harry heard the boy say, "See you back at the dorms."

"Until later," Tom replied. The Slytherin turned and left, glancing at Harry's shiny arms as he went. Harry smiled awkwardly before turning to Tom.

"Ah, Harry," Tom said warmly, leaning over to place his elbows on the table. As the teen rested his head on his fists, Harry was bizarrely reminded of Dumbledore. "Join me."

Harry sat. "Hey, Tom." Unsurprisingly, the teen was surrounded by books. "What're you reading?"

"Some enlightening information about Patronus forms," he replied, eyes glinting. "Did you know the form one's Patronus takes is supposed to reveal that which is unknown but necessary within the personality?"

"...No?"

"I wonder what a Stag Patronus would reveal..." Tom mused. "Let's find out, hm?"

"I'll pass," Harry said, only for Tom to ignore him and raise his hand. His fingers twitched and one of the books on the table flew up and smacked against Tom's palm as he snatched it. "Mate, it was right there," Harry complained. "You're such a poser."

Unsurprisingly, Tom's selective deafness continued. He opened the book. "Ah, here we are. Patronus forms..." Tom began to leaf through the book. "How are the wards holding up?" he asked conversationally.

Harry blinked, confused. "The wards?"

"The wards on your skin," Tom said, still flipping through the pages, "Shock anybody yet?"

Harry glanced down at the shimmering magic covering his skin. "Maybe..."

Tom looked up from the book, "That's a yes," he grinned, "How many?"

"...Six."

The decidedly cruel grin on his face grew wooden. "That many, hm?"

"Tom," Harry sighed. "It's fine. And if it helps, they all left like, poof." Harry flicked his fingers out beside his ears, miming electrocuted hair. When Tom looked at him blankly, he continued. "You know... Hair sticking up and stuff?"

"You didn't need to—" Tom mockingly mimicked Harry's flicking hand gesture. "Your regular hair would have sufficed," he smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes, leaning back and folding his arms.

"Here we are! A Stag Patronus. Let's see what it has to say about you, hm?"

"Whatever," Harry mumbled, secretly intrigued.

"'The Stag is a rare form associated with bravery and nobility,'" Tom read, only to wrinkle his nose. "So Gryffindor, then. That's hardly unknown. 'Traditionally seen as 'King of the Forest,' witches and wizards with a Stag Patronus are often found in positions of leadership.' That's interesting. What else..."

"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked, exasperated.

"Well," Tom said, "Sometimes it feels as if I barely know you, Evans."

Harry frowned, not missing his emphasis. "You know plenty."

"Do I?" Tom asked lightly.

"Look, you said you were going to tell me what you found this summer."

"Did I?"

"Yes!"

"'In nature,'" Tom read as if he hadn't spoken, "The Stag deer sheds and regrows his antlers every year, leading the Stag to be regarded as a symbol of rebirth and resurrection.'"

"Tom..."

"'Therefore, it is not unsurprising that those with a Stag Patronus often lead lives touched by Death."

"Tom."

"'Touched by Death,'" he repeated. "Interesting... Tell me Harry, has your life been touched by Death."

"Stop it." Harry's body had gone cold.

Tom's eyes narrowed. "I just want to know you, Harry. Three months ago you promised me answers."

Harry's jaw clenched; his nostrils flared.

"How about this?" Tom smiled. "A question for a question, Harry. That's fair, hm?"

He didn't answer.

"Harry," he crooned, "It's simple. If you want to know what I discovered this summer, then I want to know why you were wearing Gryffindor robes when you appeared by the lake."

"How will I know it'll be a fair trade?" Harry argued immediately. "You could've discovered a-a—" Harry faltered, "a fucking cool rock or something for all I know."

Tom laughed. "Please, Harry."

He just glared.

Now Tom looked irritated. "Fine," he ground out. "Let's start easy. Where'd you get that scar?"

Harry saw red. "That." He breathed out. "That is not easy, Riddle."

Was he seeing things, or did Tom look... nervous?

"Okay," the teen said quietly. "Okay. I won't ask that."

"Good. Now I'll ask you, Riddle. What. Did you find. This summer?"

NOTES:

Just the bit on the Patronus charm from the fake "Advanced Charms" textbook was taken directly from the Pottermore website. Everything else is mine.