I got a tumblr for my fanfiction, where I'll post stuff like updates, prompts, teasers, etc. Probably ramble a bit. I dunno- it's a work in progress. Please follow me. I don't know what I'm doing.

This is currently unbetaed, because I'm going on holiday soon and want to get this up before I am deprived of wifi for a week 0.0 So if it is a mess, that's why. The betaed version will be up soon :)

Tom rubbed his abdomen absent-mindedly. It had been a few weeks since the duel, and his ribs were completely healed up, but he still felt phantom pains.

The duel… truth be told, Tom had only asked Harrison because he was bored. He knew that no one in that class could beat him, and perhaps proving his superiority to the new Slytherin would have entertained him. It was simply a bonus that Tom got more time to explore this new mystery. Of course, it hadn't gone as planned, but at least Tom had gotten something out of it.

Harrison had slipped up.

Tom could remember it perfectly. Harrison's eyes narrowing with disgust and triumph, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "You never do get over your dramatics," and then the burst of silver light that had Tom falling backwards.

Now what had Harrison meant by that?

Tom knew, admittedly, that he was more inclined to dramatics than he would have liked. He enjoyed taking his time, watching people realise they'd failed. That was what fascinated Tom: people, and the different ways they broke. He'd had plenty of opportunities to experiment in the Orphanage; to work up the children and then send them crashing down. He found it utterly enthralling. To feel that power, to know you were the reason for downfalls and uprisings.

It was how he wanted to feel for the rest of his life. He never wanted to feel helpless. He wanted to be someone.

Harrison hadn't broken. Harrison had fought back. Harrison had sent aerial armies, and explosions, and waves to douse his fire. Harrison thought himself Tom's equal.

Tom had never truly encountered that before. He'd met those who thought themselves above Tom: Dumbledore, Dippet, Mrs Cole. He'd sneered at those below him: Atticus, Rupert- even Cassius deferred to Tom. Harrison faced him like no other; completely equal. He didn't know how he felt about it.

Harrison knew things he shouldn't. He knew his way around the castle; he knew spells Tom had never heard of; he knew Tom's weakness for wand flourishing. But how?

Tom frowned broodily and realised he had no idea. He'd put Abraxas on it.

"Tom? Tom!? It's your move."

He was brought back to the Slytherin dormitories abruptly.

"My move?" Oh right- he was played a game of chess against Orion, and winning.

"I just went. You've just been staring at nothing for ages."

Tom reluctantly turned his attention back to the game, thoughts still lingering on Harrison. Orion sat expectantly across from him, wearing an exasperated expression and tugging on his tie. Black nodded towards the chessboard between them, and Tom sighed, pushing forward a piece without much thought.

His mind drifted again. Harrison had almost beaten him in that duel. He would have had Tom thoroughly cornered, had he not left enough lee-way for him to move his arm. Tom just didn't understand how.

Harrison was not a poor wizard, but neither did he seemed a particularly exceptional one. He got by in his lessons from what Tom heard; excelling sometimes and falling behind at intervals, but mostly thoroughly average. Well, perhaps Tom was being harsh- above average then. However, there had been nothing to suggest that Harrison would be capable of almost beating Tom.

But during that duel, Harrison had come alive. It had been actually quite thrilling really. Peters seemed to think in a series of reactions- whilst Tom could plan a move and thirty different possible repercussions all at once, Harrison thought on his feet, constantly moving and evading. It was quite amazing to watch. He had none of Tom's technique or strategy, but Tom had to admit that Harrison was probably more of a natural; more intuitive in his duelling style.

Tom was more skilled, more subtle; more inventive. But Harrison was strong, and quick, and seemed to know Tom's moves better than Tom did.

You didn't pick that up from parental home-schooling. You couldn't; not unless Mr and Mrs Peters were duelling legends, and Tom would have heard of them if that was the case.

Why hadn't Tom heard of them? Most home-schooled students came to Hogwarts thoroughly unprepared, not level to the best student in the year. What was Harrison hiding?

There were so many holes in his story. It'd seemed reasonable: but Harrison's skill level, unawareness of current events (just that morning, he'd asked Tom why someone was crying at the Hufflepuff table. Honestly, like there wasn't a war on), and sometimes he'd say the strangest things…

Just last Wednesday, Harrison had mentioned Puddlemere United gaining a new captain; Nathaniel Federer. It was only a few days later that the change was announced in the newspapers. Either Peters had unknown connections to the Quidditch team, or it was highly suspicious.

"Tom!" Orion insisted. "It's your turn again."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "I don't need a reminder, Black," he said coolly, but pushed a pawn forwards all the same.

Just at that moment, Harrison Peters stepped through the entrance to the Common Room. He did it unusually smoothly- most first years stumbled through the passageway for months. Tom added that to his mental list of strange things about Harrison Peters.

Harrison looked around, blinking owlishly behind his glasses, before he apparently spotted Orion and came hurrying over. "Orion!" He said, excitedly. "I got an EE in Potions! An EE! I've never got higher than an Acceptable!" He waved his homework in enthusiasm. Orion responded with suitable delight.

"I thought you weren't getting the essays back until next lesson?"

"He marked mine first."

Tom surveyed the two with distaste. This thing almost beat him in a duel?

Harrison caught his look and rolled his eyes playfully. "Oh shut it, Riddle. Not everyone can have an IQ almost as big as your ego."

"I'm sure they could if they tried." Tom said coolly.

"And the ego strikes again." Harrison mocked.

"Well, perhaps you should move to Ravenclaw with a mark as high as that," Tom replied sarcastically, gesturing to Harrison's homework.

"I wish I did. Then I wouldn't need to see your face every morning."

"I'm sure the bathroom mirror shares your sentiment."

"She told me my hair looked windswept this moment, actually."

Tom laughed cruelly. "And that's a compliment in your book?"

"I know you find it difficult to understand anything other than backhanded insults, but yes."

"Checkmate," Orion gasped.

"What?!" Tom demanded, turning back to the game of chess quickly. He felt nauseous the sight of the chessboard; where his king lay pathetically on one side, cowering beneath Orion's queen. He'd… lost?

"I won!" Orion squealed, looking like Christmas day had come early. "I won a game of chess against Tom Riddle!" Orion turned and brandished a triumphant finger at Tom. "I beat you!"

The Slytherin Common room became silent, and all attention fell upon the three. Tom gave everyone a dangerous glare, silently warning them to go back to what they were doing. They obeyed. He didn't need more people witness to his humiliation- he might not be able to control himself. Already, his wandhand was itching to curse someone.

"Becoming a bit of a pattern, eh, Riddle?" Harrison grinned tauntingly. "Better get used to losing-"

"The duel was a draw," Tom corrected automatically, scowling at the board. "This can't be right."

"And yet it's happening," Peters sang brightly, before turning to the triumphant Black. "Hey, I'm gonna drop my homework off in the dormitories, and then when I come back we can celebrate. I'll bring the Bertie Botts."

"They're my favourite," Orion beamed, happily.

"I know," Harrison said, disgustingly supportive. Then he did something odd. He held his hand up, palm facing towards Orion, and waited expectantly.

Orion frowned.

"Well come on then," Harrison prompted. "High five."

"What's a 'high five'?" Orion asked slowly, tilting his head at Harrison's hand.

"Is it something to do with arithmancy?" Tom suggested.

"No! It's… it's like a congratulations thing. You give someone a high five if you want to say well done." Harrison frowned.

"How does it work?"

"You slap my hand."

Orion reached out and lightly patted Harrison's hand.

Peters shook his head, laughing, "No, a proper slap. Like… I'll show you. Put your hand up like mine."

Orion copied Harrison uncertainly, raising his arm and flattening his palm.

"Now don't move your hand," Harrison said slowly. "I'm going to hit it."

"Hit it!?" Orion gulped.

"It'll be fine!" Harrison said, wearing a blasé grin. He raised his hand, delivering a smart slap to Orion's palm. Tom knew he wasn't mistaken when he saw a small, almost unnoticeable ripple of magic from Harrison upon contact. Orion yelped and staggered away, shaking his hand and clutching it to his chest.

"I think it has to be more mutual." Tom rolled his eyes at Peters.

Harrison's eyes were wide behind his glasses. He looked like a badly startled owl. "I'm sorry, Orion,"

"It's fine." Orion smiled through gritted teeth. "It doesn't really hurt, honest."

Perhaps that would have been a more believable statement if Black's hand hadn't been bright red, and his voice had been an octave lower.

"I didn't mean to," Harrison offered guiltily.

Tom heaved a great sigh- honestly, did anyone remember they were wizards these days? He considered leaving it, but Orion's pained whimpers were irritating him. He stepped forwards and ran his wand over Orion's palm, muttering a low soothing charm. The redness faded, as did the pained expression on Orion's face.

"Don't be pathetic, Orion," Tom offered, smoothly. "It was just a tap."

Orion didn't seem comforted, for some reason.

Harrison gingerly clapped Orion on the shoulder; declaring: "I'll just go get the Bertie Botts, see if they make you feel better. We can celebrate your victory, yeah?"

Ah, the chess game. He had forgotten about that.

Orion perked up at the mention of sugar, and gave Harrison an enthusiastic nod. Harrison beamed and turned away to jog down the stairs into the Slytherin dormitories.

"Oh, before you go, my parents sent that book you wanted," Orion remembered, holding out a thick tome. "I think it's the right one."

Harrison near froze, and grabbed the book quicker than a bullet. "This is bloody brilliant," he told Orion gratefully, pouring over the cover- strokingit. "This is exactly right, yeah. Thanks."

"It's really new. It only got released yesterday. But you mentioned it at the beginning of the week?" Naïve curiosity peppered Orion's question, and Tom's interest was caught.

"I'd heard about it," Harrison said dismissively. He opened the book to the contents and ran his finger down the chapter list.

"Everyone was really surprised when Cassandra Vablatsky published it. No one expected it." Orion said innocently.

Harrison got a funny crease on his forehead and bit his lip. "Weird. I, er, I'll go put this in my dorm and get the sweets, yeah? You beat Riddle, remember?"

Orion perked up at the mention of sweets and seemed to forget his entire line of questioning. Tom sighed at his weak will.

Then Harrison was gone, to fetch the confectionaries. Tom grumbled at the theatrics of it all (a little hypocritical, he knew), and sank into a green armchair. They were making far too big a fuss of this- it was one victory. And it was all Harrison's fault. He'd completely distracted Tom.

Tom restrained the urge to follow and curse him.

Orion was buzzing with excitement, now completely recovered from the 'high five' (pathetic, Tom murmured inwardly). "Cassius told me this would happen," Black told him happily. "He said you'd lose when you were distracted."

"Good for Cassius," Tom snarled, really wishing they'd move on. Honestly, it was just a game. He'd never lost one before.

"I wonder if Cassius could tell me when the next Divinations quiz is."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Why don't you ask him about the Western Front whilst you're at it?"

"Do you think I could?"

"Oh for heaven's sake- Cassius will do what he does, as usual. You know he just likes to cause chaos," Tom snapped.

"Yes, but if you ask a question Cassie usually answers, even if he's vague. It's like he knows everything…" Orion mumbles.

"Don't be idiotic, that's impossible…" Tom said, with less derision than deserved. His mind began whirring. Tom may have been abrasive, but he couldn't fail to notice the similarities between Cassius and Harrison. Perhaps on a different scale- Harrison didn't possess quite the same otherworldly weirdness as Cassius and was certainly more direct, but Peters wasn't exempt from mentioning things that he couldn't have known, and he was strangely familiar with everyone…

"Just like Cassius," Tom said wonderingly. "Where is Rosier?"

"He might be in the library. It's where he usually is."

"Of course." Tom paused for effect. "Orion, that book: what was it called?"

"Unfogging the Future. Some sort of Divination thing, by this famous seer."

"Indeed, I've heard of her. I didn't know Harrison was interested in Divination?"

"Neither did I." Orion shrugged, falling back onto a sofa. "But he really wanted it- he was desperate. He came up to me a few days ago, and said he couldn't find it in the library. He wouldn't have, because, as I said, it's a really recent release, but he seemed quite surprised by that. So I wrote to my parents-"

"The library, you said?" Tom interrupted.

"Yes, he couldn't find it in the library."

"No, where I can find Rosier."

"Oh yeah. The library. That's where Cassius should be."

Tom gave a cursory nod and left as soon as possible. He headed straight towards the library, robes billowing around his body. He knew the sort of image he struck: strong, beautiful and powerful: all dark hair and tall. He gave a tight smile to a small Ravenclaw with mousey brown hair and round glasses, and she looked delightedly shocked.

The castle was relatively quiet, as it always was during lunch. The students were presumably mostly in the Great Hall, still eating; or outside. Tom took a deep breath and was fiercely reminded of how much he loved this castle, even more so at its quietest. The scent of magic and age was fresh on the breeze, imbued into the very stone in the walls. Even the moss was ancient. Tom wondered how many great and famous witches and wizards had walked this path, and how many would in the future. He wondered what they would think of him.

He wanted them to know him.

The fresh wind tangled in Tom's hair, dancing along the open corridor; ducking around pillars and battering portraits who complained loudly. A slight smile played on the corner of his lips, as he paused and leaning on the sill, staring out onto the courtyard.

He loved Hogwarts.

The grand trees outside were painted autumn shades; oranges, red and brown decorating their branches. Fallen leaves blanketed the cobble stones, crunching under the feet of the students who walked outside; noses reddened and cheeks bright. There wasn't a cloud in the sky above, and the light was that kind of crisp white you only get during the autumn months.

Tom inhaled smoothly, shrugged off his sentimentality, and continued towards the library.

Cassius wasn't difficult to locate, curled up in an armchair next to the fiction books, with a comic resting on his lap. He didn't even need to look up to say softly, "Hello, Tom," and gesture towards a seat.

Tom looked at the indicated chair, and sat down in the one next to it. It was the little things that mattered.

"You're here to ask about Harry," Cassius told him.

"Well, it appears there's no explanation needed then. Tell me about him."

"What makes you think I would know anything?"

Tom fixed Cassius with an icy-cold glare that had even Cassius flinching. He was not in the mood for Cassius' nonsense, having had a thoroughly frustrating day, and looking for some answers finally. "Don't push me," Tom said darkly.

"What do you want to know?" Cassius's voice held significantly less attitude this time, but the slight smile on his lips irritated Tom to no end.

"Harrison. He's suspicious. He says things that haven't happened yet, and it's like he knows more about us than he should. I want to know why."

Cassius tilted his head. "I can't tell you exactly-"

"And why not?!" Tom erupted.

"But I'll say this." Cassius raised a finger. "Look into the future."

Tom raised an eyebrow.

Cassius leaned in like he was divulging a great secret. "Time is a mysterious thing, Tom Riddle. Sometimes it lets things… slip through."

"Like visions…" Tom straightened up, an idea striking him. "Look into the future… is that what he's doing? Is he a seer? He had a book, on Divination. And he's been predicting things- being a seer's genetic, isn't it? There'll be some history in the Peters family. I should have Abraxas get on that, research his parents… this would explain so much."

Cassius gave one of his strange smiles, tucked a lock of hair behind his ear and said, "Glad to see you've got it all figured out. Have you seen Ella?"

"Druella? No," Tom dismissed. "What does she want?"

"Gobstones advice." Cassius said quickly. Never mind; I'll see her around. Abraxas just left Transfigurations, if you need him."

Tom was always interested in collecting people of significance. Those with special skills or talents. You could never have too many powerful people under your control. Harrison had already proven his magical talent and- should he prove to have the oracle's touch- could be perfect.

Tom stood up. He walked briskly away, without saying anything more to Cassius. He had a Malfoy to find.

Harry was having an excellent day. He'd gotten an EE in his Potions essay, got to see Riddle defeated, and now he had his favourite subject, Defence.

"This is a great day," he told Orion, practically skipping towards the Defence classroom.

"Eh kno' righ'?" Orion mumbled through a mouthful of jellybeans. "Gre' deh."

"Are we moving onto anything new in Defence?"

Orion swallowed his mouthful with a loud gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing. "We have a few more weeks of recaps- she likes to cover everything. We did rituals last lesson. So it could be anything really: curses, creatures- but it won't be anything you haven't seen before, probably. What have you done?"

"Er," What had Harry done; other than duelled dark lords and slaughtered basilisks? "A bit of everything: dark creatures, hexes, curses- the Unforgiveables, dark objects, enchantments-"

"The Unforgiveables?!" Orion exclaimed. "We haven't done anything like that yet. That's- that's dark. Not that I care but- Merlin. You never struck me as the type."

"My teacher thought we should be prepared." Harry could still hear Moody's rough growl and the flash of green light.

"Your teacher? You mean, your parents?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, wondering why it was that he couldn't just keep his mouth shut. He improvised. "I mean my dad was really into all that 'constant vigilance' stuff."

"What were they like: your parents?" Orion asked curiously.

Harry didn't answer immediately. Orion took the silence as offence.

"Sorry! Personal question." Orion winced. "I'm really bad at those, I get to know someone then suddenly- boom!- out with the invasions of privacy. It really annoyed Tom when we first got to know each other. He doesn't appreciate people asking about his home life, as I learned."

"Because of the orphanage."

"Yes, how did you-?" Orion frowned.

"He mentioned it."

"That's not like Tom." Orion shook his head, getting back on track. "So anyway, I'm sorry if you were offended by my question. I didn't mean to. I forget we haven't known each other for that long," Orion gave him an honest smile.

"No it's fine. It's just a bit raw, you know." Harry lied.

Harry realised he didn't actually know all that much about his parents. What had Sirius really told him? Nothing much except for how he looked like them, and what 'wonderful' people they had both been. He didn't even know their favourite colours. The only other thing he knew was how much of a dick his dad had been to Snape, and that was from a biased memory. His parents could have been anything from monsters, to Ghandi reincarnated. (Fine, so maybe not to those extremes).

It made him incredibly sad. Perhaps, if he was still here in twenty years (not that he would be, he promised himself), he could get to know them? He wanted to talk to them. He wanted to see if they would have been proud of him. Would his dad have hated his 'filthy snake' of a son? Or would his mum have wrapped her arms around him and told him her love was unconditional? He'd always imagined what a mother's hug would feel like.

"You know, I'm actually quite good at warding." Orion said randomly, and Harry appreciated his attempt at distraction. "I came up with this new ward recently, it's interesting actually. It's sort of a muggle-repelling ward. It prevents those without magical blood from entering a building or area. But it doesn't do it physically, it plants an idea in their heads: that they're got somewhere else to be, and that they have to be their immediately. Much less suspicious. I really think it could have real life, important applications for magical entrances, and events, and such. It could really protect us all-" Orion spotted what must have been a pretty shocked expression on Harry's face. "-not that we need protecting, of course, because muggles are all lovely and not at all vicious." He finished unconvincingly.

"You invented that?" Harry asked, remembering the wards over Grimmauld Place, the world cup, Hogwarts, Durmstrang.

"Yes?"

"That's amazing, Orion. Really, that's incredible." Harry clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a sideways hug. "How did you manage that?"

"Occlumency," Orion interrupted. "I'm good at that too," he grinned. "So… you like it?"

"Yeah, 'course. Just think, they could be using that to protect Hogwarts in a few years," Harry hid a smirk.

"You think so?!" Orion exploded and then, calming down, "I mean, that is what I had in mind when I created it, but… it's just such an inconsistent system we have now! Certainly, we have the glamours, but the odd muggle always wanders in and has to be obliviated- what if they get to a first year before we realised and hurt… themselves because muggles are so harmless, of course," Orion mumbled sheepishly.

"I have to get you into muggle London. They're not bloody demons." Harry laughed, finding Orion's terror almost funny now. And then he remembered that this terror led to countless murders as well as at least two wars, and stopped laughing. "So what are you going to do with the ward?"

"Oh, I'll send it to the wards department in the Ministry, they'll run tests for a while- probably a few years as it won't be priority- to see if it's safe, and then they'll release it to the general public."

"But won't you get any money?"

"Why would I get money?" Orion chuckled.

"But surely you discovered it…"

"I can't charge people to use a ward." Orion scoffed. "Magic's public property."

Harry had never wondered about the invention of spells. Who did it, and why; if they didn't get paid. Call him shallow (perhaps it was a value instilled by the Dursleys), but Harry just couldn't see people creating things for other people without payment.

"You get recognition in all the proper academic circles, of course," Orion admitted. "The journals, the guilds. It's what I want to do: become a wardmaster. You're paid for that."

"How do you become one of those?"

"You need NEWTS in all the important subjects, and then you do TOADS beyond that-"

"TOADS?"

"Testing On Advanced, Defined Subjects? That's independent studying, ended with tests at the Ministry. To be a wardmaster, you need Warding TOADS and Ancient Runes TOADS. Then you can do an apprenticeship, or you can write straight to the Guild of Wardmasters and ask to be taken on as a beginner. You work your way up from there."

"Sounds longwinded."

"It's a great honour," Orion assured him. "I can't wait."

"Hey," Harry began, wondering if he was about to show his ignorance. However, Hermione had never mentioned them, and these TOADS things seemed like the sort of the thing that she would have been hassling Harry and Ron to do. "I've never heard of TOADS."

"Not many people have. They're quite obscure; only really needed for going into academics or becoming a branch master. There's talk of discontinuing them, and making the NEWTS courses trickier, anyway."

That would explain it then.

The two finally came to the end of the corridor, and drew to a close.

"Here we are!" Orion gestured to the door into the Defence classroom. "Milord," he said teasingly, bowing as he held the door open.

"Shut up," Harry replied, snorting.

"You're late," Merrythought snapped upon their entrance, bearing down upon them like an enraged eagle.

"Only a little, ma'am," Orion wheedled playfully.

"Get to your desk," Merrythought made a sound of disgust in the back of her mouth, and turned away.

Harry exchanged a look with Orion, and the two of them snickered quietly as they shuffled to their chairs. Harry most definitely did not see Tom Riddle watching him intently with a faint smirk, and most definitely did not wonder what he knew, and then immediately after consider how he got his hair to look that good. He also didn't glare at Riddle in the distinctly confrontational manner that he'd promised himself he wouldn't do.

He also didn't think of the new book hidden under his bed, basically begging to be read. (This was practically his last shot; it had to be the one.)

Yes, he did all of those things; so hex him.

Harry promptly put all thoughts of Riddle out of his mind, and settled down for a good Defence lesson with a competent teacher. What more could he ask for?

"This lesson, class, we'll be looking at Boggarts."

Apparently a lot.

"Normally I wouldn't cover a single topic in a class- I'd do all dark creatures, and expect you to keep up. But since Boggarts are such dangerous and individual creatures, we will be dedicating a whole lesson to them." Professor Merrythought looked personally offended by the very thought. "Now, you all know what a Boggart is, and you are aware that I don't like to waste a lot of time on 'theory' or 'hypotheticals'," Merrythought said, using air quotes. "So I'm going to throw you in front of a Boggart and see how you deal. Any complaints?" She didn't wait for a response. "Good."

Harry didn't like the direction this was going in. It felt very familiar.

Merrythought shrugged off her robes, revealing smart green trousers and white blouse. She continued. "Now I want you to get over any worries you may have about your 'pride' or 'privacy'. If you can't defend against your greatest fears from your classmates, you won't fare well in the real world. Take this as a lesson in humility. Any issue with this; I don't want to see you in my classroom again."

"Stone-hearted," Orion muttered to Harry. "Probably why she never got a husband."

"Or she didn't want one," Harry corrected lightly, wincing at the casual sexism. Product of the times, he told himself resolutely.

"You sound like Druella," Orion rolled his eyes.

"Maybe that's not a bad thing."

"Oi! You two over there!" Orion and Harry jumped in shock, looking to the front of the class. Professor Merrythought glared at the two. "Yes, Punch and Judy, you."

"Muggle reference," Harry told a confused Orion, from the side of his mouth.

"Perhaps you want to volunteer to go first. Hmm?"

"No Professor," they chorused together.

"Funny that. Okay class, line up. Mr Riddle, at the front. You can show the rest of them how to do it."

For once, Riddle didn't look delighted about being singled out, plodding to the front of the room with an odd lack of grace. Harry supposed no one would be happy about showing their greatest fear to a room full of classmates, least of all Riddle. Harry didn't blame him.

He was intensely worried about this. To be honest, he had no idea what his fear would be. Yes, it had been Dementors, but after the graveyard, Sirius, and everything… it was very possibly it could be Voldemort. And that could ruin everything. It would show Riddle who he was, reveal he'd been lying to everybody… they could lock him up.

Merlin, was there any use hoping that Merrythought would do the same things as Remus had, and skip him?

Probably not, he decided, taking a glance at his stern Professor, who was already wheeling out the Boggart-filled trunk. He doubted even a heart attack would stop her.

"Line up!" she yelled, and the few students who'd been anxiously milling at the back trudging into formation. Harry was around the middle, and wondered if there was any way he could get to the back without her noticing. He doubted it.

"Step forwards, Riddle. You know the spell?" Merrythought laid a light hand on his shoulder.

"Riddikulus," Tom replied, and Harry was sure that it wasn't his imagination causing Tom's voice to be raspier than usual. Harry was also sure he shouldn't have found it as attractive as he did.

"Good lad." And with that, Professor Merrythought flung open the trunk.

Tom's eyes widened, and Harry had to step to the side to see what it was. And what it was, was thoroughly mundane. Harry was almost disappointed.

It was a small gravestone, entirely unremarkable. A little moss growing on the stone perhaps, but nothing big; nothing grandiose. Nothing to suggest that this was the grave of Voldemort. It was a pale grey slate, not even marble. A few daisies laid at the base.

Harry knew Riddle feared death, but couldn't he have come up with something more impressive? A fiery mass of flames? A flash of green light? A shark?

Harry read the inscription:

Tom Riddle, 1926-?

Unknown

Riddle looked utterly terrified. Suddenly, it dawned on Harry that the mundaneness of it all was Riddle's fear. Dying unknown and ordinary: that was Riddle's worst nightmare. Not being anyone.

Harry suddenly felt incredibly sad. Whilst he'd spent his whole life running from attention, Riddle longed for it. Despite their similarities growing up, here was were their paths split. Or perhaps it was due to their similarities growing up. Different ways of dealing, he supposed.

"Riddikulus," Riddle whispered, flicking his wand. The grave turned to a clown, smiling down at the class. Harry found it vaguely eerie. Riddle let out a laugh which may have sounded real to the rest of the class, but it was weak and tinny to Harry's ears.

"Excellent work, Mr Riddle," Professor Merrythought congratulated. "Parkinson, you're next."

The students went by in a blur: only a few fears standing out. A humungous basilisk with scales of glimmering emerald that set his heart racing, for obvious reasons. A yappy pink poodle that had a Gryffindor screaming, for some reason. A beautiful bride that enchanted the class, until she turned around and revealed half of her head missing, brain clearly exposed and gooey. Harry suspected there was a very personal story behind that one.

Avery was scared of dogs, as it turned out. Upon his stepping forwards, he was confronted by a huge slobbering beast that bore a disturbing resemblance to Fluffy, but with a single head.

Cassius approached, and the Boggart became a silent scene, everyone moving in slow motion. Harry still couldn't work that one out.

Montgomery's was freaky: a tall, gruff man bearing a striking resemblance to Lestrange: towering above them all and bellowing "WHERE ARE YOU, YOU LITTLE SQUIB?! I'LL KILL YOU. I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" ("His uncle," someone whispered to Harry. "He was locked up last year.")

Caspar Grahams' fear was a cauldron of some sort, with a white smoke rising from the surface. Harry caught a glimpse of Riddle's face, standing at the back of classroom when the cauldron appeared, and he looked unspeakably smug.

Dolohov was scared of a woman, short, in a long black dress and veil. Harry noticed she held a bow tie in one hand, and wore red on her fingernails.

Finally, it became Orion's turn. The young Black gifted Harry a nervous smile before taking a small step towards the Boggarts.

The Boggart switched between forms for a minute. A girl screamed.

The Boggart had turned into a small child; only a baby really, with curled silky locks and a sweet face. They were dead; skin tinged green and lying in a pool of blood. The jumpsuit the babe was dressed in bore the Black family crest and Harry realised with horror…

"Rigel," Orion murmured, stricken.

Orion's little brother.

"He's sick, he-" Orion rushed to the body's side, taking the little hand in his own. "Wake up, Rigie," he murmured softly, and then louder: "Wake up!"

Harry eyes widened, thoroughly shocked. He looked at the teacher; surely she had to do something?

Orion pushed the little corpse so it was lying more fully on its back, muttering quickly, "He's not dead, he's just sick, I wrote a letter to him this morning- wake UP! Come one, Rigie, what's Mother doing letting you wander around? She knows you get into trouble, eh? Just open your eyes-"

The corpse's head flopped to one side, eyelids shuttered. "JUST OPEN THEM, DAMNIT," Orion begged, taking the child's cheeks between his hands. "Please."

"Mr Black, that's a Boggart, not your brother. Pull yourself together." Merrythought intervened, not unkindly. She approached the pair, but didn't get too close.

"Don't say that," Orion warned, voice thick with tears.

"Say the spell, Mr Black."

"But, Professor, it's Rigel, he's sick-"

"And that's not him-"

"I can't leave-"

"It's just a Boggart-"

"DON'T SAY THAT!" he repeated angrily, clenching his fists.

Merrythought stayed calm, face barely changing. "Say the spell."

Harry could see Orion take a deep, shuddering breath. He bent down and pressed a loving kiss to the body's forehead, stroking its head. Orion then stood and pulled out his wand, muttering, "Riddikulus," lowly. Rigel's corpse turned into someone tripping over a banana peel and falling onto their face.

"Ha," Orion said emptily, got up and left the classroom, letting the door swing shut behind him with a definite thud.

Harry wondered if he should follow.

"Mr Peters, you're up."

Harry didn't have time to go after his friend, because Professor Merrythought was fixing him with a stern look and pointing her wand at the Boggart. Harry chanted please don't be Voldemort, please don't be Voldemort in his head, and moved forwards.

It wasn't Voldemort.

It was much worse.

Rigel's body- the Boggart- wobbled for a minute, before multiplying and shifting. Now, several bodies lay on the stone floor, messy streaks of blood surrounding their limbs. The skin on the figures shifted and bubbled, lengthening or changing features.

When it finished, chillingly familiar shapes remained.

Hermione dead; a brutal purple slash across her abdomen, blood trickling dully. Ron gone, the brain wrapped tightly around his upper body, pulsating on his translucent face. Ginny, her beautiful throat torn apart and fraying at the seams. Neville, missing a leg and looking so small, eyes vacant. And Luna, looking more lost than she ever had done before, clutching her knees and rocking forwards and backwards.

"Harry will save us, Harry will save us, Harry will save us." she repeated numbly.

"Luna?" the name fell from his tongue before he could stop it. Harry was frozen to the spot. He couldn't move.

Luna's face raised, eyes darting to meet his. She glared at him accusingly, tears collecting on her cheeks. "Why didn't you save us? Why aren't youhere?" she asked cruelly. "You lead us here, then you left. And now we're dead because of you."

"I'm sorry," ripped from Harry's throat, and he gasped for air. "I promise I'll save you. Fifty years- I'll be there, I swear."

Luna laughed, and it sounded frighteningly like Bellatrix. "But that's your thing, isn't it? You let the people around you die to save your own neck. Think of your parents. Cedric. Sirius. It's your fault. You let them die for you, and you'll let us die, too."

Harry heard a faint whining sound, and realised it was coming from him.

"You left us, Harry," Luna bared her teeth. "You weren't here, and you never will be-"

And then he felt a warm hand grasp his elbow, pulling him away from the macabre scene. "Harrison," came a calm voice, and Harry recognised it as Riddle. "You should go outside. Find Orion. I'll handle this."

"Thanks," Harry croaked faintly. He couldn't drag his eyes away from Luna.

"That's alright. You've given me quite enough for now." Riddle said softly. Harry let himself be led away, and sent stumbling towards the exit. He escaped into the corridor gratefully.

Harry found Orion curled up underneath a window, hair spilling over his shoulders.

"Hair-growth charm," Orion explained shortly.

"Ah."

They didn't talk for the next half hour.

At the end of the lesson, Professor Merrythought called Harry, Orion, Lestrange, and a couple of other students that Harry didn't recognise into her office at the back. Riddle left with the crowd of people who hadn't had mental breakdowns, but Harry saw him shoot a concerned glance towards the group at the front. Harry was too emotionally drained to try and discern whether it was real or not. At this point in time, he didn't really care.

Professor Merrythought looked more contrite than Harry had thought possible, and ran a hand over her face. "I want to apologise. When planning this lesson, I didn't consider that the current climate and your advanced age could contribute to some… significant fears. That was foolish. There is no shame in being afraid, just in not facing it. You all faced your fear today- all of you," she asserted. "You should be proud."

There was an indistinguishable murmur of assent amongst the students, and Merrythought nodded in acknowledgement.

"And," she added, "If any of you want to come and discuss your… feelings, my office door is open on all weekdays except Thursday, from 6 til 8- what?!" she snapped, to some affronted looks. "You can't come in 24/7. I'm not a bloody therapist."

"Thank Merlin," Orion muttered to Harry, some of his usual humour returning. "Think of the children."

Harry chuckled weakly. "Professor?" he asked. "How do Boggarts come about?"

"You mean, how are they born?"

"Yeah."

"They're not," Merrythought shrugged. "A Boggart is an amortal non-being- meaning they were never alive to begin with, so they can never be killed. It's not really a creature, as such. More of an idea, I suppose. But we include it under creature classification to make it easier."

"What do you mean it can't be killed?!" shrieked one of the students that Harry didn't know.

Merrythought turned her gaze on them. "You can't destroy a Boggart. There will always be new fear to feed upon. You can dissolve it, but it will reform. All you can hope to do is defend yourself." She looked out of the window with a slight frown. "It's a selfish world out there, children."

There was a moment of silence.

"You can go," Merrythought allowed, dismissing them with a wave.

Harry and the others did as they were told.

Tom stalked towards the Great Hall, mind still processing the events of his last lesson. For the first time: being picked to go before everyone else had been a highly unpleasant experience. Luckily, Tom's fear had been predictable. Regrettable, but predictable. At least his was benign (on the surface)- it would hopefully go relatively unnoticed, especially amongst the rest of the drama that had occurred.

Tom hadn't known Rigel was sick. He should probably send some flowers to the family. It might be useful in the future to have the Head of the Department of Mysteries on his side. Lilies were always a safe bet, weren't they?

Speaking of in the future… Harrison's encounter with the Boggart had increased Tom's suspicions of him being a seer. The mention of 'fifty years'- perhaps an unalterable vision of the future? Something Harrison 'couldn't stop', hence the guilt. Or perhaps it was a merge of past memories from the slaughter of his village, and a future event? Maybe a vision Harrison had of his own death, hence 'I'll be there'?

Abraxas could provide answers.

Tom stopped at the Slytherin table, grabbed the familiar head of blond hair, and dragged him out into an abandoned corridor.

"What have you found?" Tom hissed, throwing the Malfoy a little roughly. Abraxas fell back into a wall, stumbling. He steadied himself, mouth already moving.

"In the last few months, there have been three muggle villages almost entirely decimated by Grindelwald's forces. One of those had a wizarding couple by the name of Peters living in it. The village was Bideford, in Devon."

"Quaint," Tom commented.

"Quite. The couple was listed on a recently deceased list, but Harrison Peters wasn't included because he is-"

"Alive, obviously." Tom scoffed.

"I couldn't find much about the couple: they were entirely unimportant. A lesser branch of the Peters family, which mostly produces magically weak children. The entire Peters family is rather boring actually: a family of shoemakers and plumbers."

Tom shifted. None of this answered his questions.

"However, more interestingly… Madam Peters, Harrison's grandmother- deceased now- apparently belonged to the Mildew family. And that family, though it's mostly passed down the female line, has a history of…"

"Seers," Tom finished with satisfaction. "A history of seers. Excellent."

Abraxas' chest swelled with pride.

"That Peters couple… they wouldn't have happened to have been duelling experts, would they?" Tom asked casually, hoping that all of his queries could be answered tonight.

"Not my knowledge. There is, however, a very successful duelling club down in Devon."

"That makes sense," Tom nodded. That made perfect sense.

Tom considered Abraxas carefully. He disliked Malfoy and his attitude, and got much joy from lauding his superiority over him. Tom had dealt with enough spoilt brats at the Orphanage to know one when he saw one. However, if there was one thing you could trust a Malfoy to be, it was discrete. They were good at keeping information to themselves. They had a lot of practise at it, what with their French origins.

Tom pursed his lips. "You have heard, I presume, of the duel that occurred between myself and Harrison?"

"I don't think there's a soul in the school who hasn't," Abraxas replied diplomatically.

"We drew."

"As was the rumour."

Tom tilted his head to one side. Malfoy: tall, lean, powerful. Yes, a reasonable challenge. "We will duel," he said. It wasn't a question.

Later, Tom left an empty classroom twirling Abraxas' wand between his fingers, and feeling as content as he ever had. Perhaps he would challenge Harrison to a rematch in the future.

But first, to get rid of that abominable dislike Harrison had of him, and instil some trust.

This would probably involve 'friendship'.

For any o' y'all confused: Harry picked an entire village that got wiped out by Grindelwald's forces, which had an actual wizarding Peters couple residing in it. Therefore no one can deny his tale. Otherwise known as: Harry uses his sneaky Slytherin attributes. Or: Harry worked on his story over the Summer. But the Seer heritage thing is all plot convenience XD
So, Tom wants to befriend Harry for his 'seer abilities'. Let's see how this works out. Ha.
And how badly has the Boggart thing affected Harry? It's all coming up in the next chapter!

Also: bonus points to anyone who can figure out why Orion used a hair-growth charm after the Boggart thang. (It's not significant, I was just curious.) The reason has been mentioned in a previous chapter…