Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Any original plots, ideas, and characters are mine.
AN:
Thanks for all the reviews of last chapter! Nothing to clarify this time ^^ So I hope you enjoy this chappie too. Things will hopefully be picking up in pace after this!
Part I: Chapter 49
Harry and Tom painfully landed on a mound of grass, groaning, as the flute Harry held tightly in his hand slowly settled, its blue glow dimming until it disappeared.
"What- where-" wheezed out Tom, sounding very winded as he struggled into an upright position on the ground, before he frowned at Harry, and snapped, "What's the matter with you?"
Harry was heaving choked sobs, tears streaming down his face, as he kept crying, as he felt he couldn't stop, because everything seemed to be suddenly catching up with him, the horrors.
Finding Robert Hutchins nearly dead in that accumulation of waste and feces, knowing what the muggle had resorted to feeding from to keep alive, Tilly Toke exploding into bits because of a landmine, because he had been helping Harry, seeing the Comet 180 being destroyed to bits before their eyes, their only hope of getting back home at the time…
Those countless hours of spine-chilling silence, his terrifying deafness, the ruins of Namsos with all the corpses Harry had desperately looted again and again, the icy waters of Namsos' fjord as he felt its waters sloshing through his shattered eardrums and the inner channels of his ears, the wrecking pain, and then the agony of seeing the British ship sailing away without them…
The desperation of setting out with barely any supplies, into forests they knew not, of then being captured by the Norwegian deserters, the hellish nightmare of all that had happened in the cottage, the constant stress and fear of the possibility that their wands would be burned in the fireplace, that the Invisibility Cloak would be found, that Ulysses would be butchered, of seeing that poor, ravaged, violated and brutalized woman, of having to dance when they knew the muggles would kill them and feed from them as they had done with the woman's husband, of then realizing the Leader's horrible intentions towards him, and then seeing his brother turn into such a mindless killer, of he himself frantically shooting with no remorse, killing three, of having to use that kitchen knife to carve into the Leader's legs, slicing pieces of raw flesh after flesh, of leaving the woman behind without being able to do much else for her except make her drink the potion, of cooking the human flesh and frenziedly feeding from it, glorifying in its gruesomely delicious taste…
The distress of their journey in trucks, and then all that had happened in the Norwegian Ministry of Magic, the Inferi feasting and so many falling, seeing what Nettie Prewett had become, killing her with fire, the Dementors attacking, the bright speck of precious light floating out of Tom's mouth, not being able to help, not being strong, knowledgeable or powerful enough to stop it, when he'd been certain he was losing Tom, that his brother was being Kissed, was losing his soul and would die, and all because of him.
But above all, he was being wrecked apart, his anguish, sorrow and grief so profound and shattering because of what had happened with Julian Erlichmann.
"Harry?" said Tom disconcerted when Harry launched himself at him, hugging him tightly, clutching him frenziedly, as he kept weeping, now against his brother's torn and bloodied jersey, as he kept heaving deep, struggling pants of air and sobs, because his brother was alive, yet he had left Julian Erlichman behind, and it felt as if something had been brutally torn away from him, because he had finally met the wizard but had lost him just as quickly, and he couldn't forget all of Julian's distraught expressions either, the haunted sky blue eyes.
"Little brother," murmured Tom quietly, a hand soothing caressing Harry's locks of hair, "all is well now. We're safe." Harry distantly felt Tom turning his head around, perusing. "We're in… the outskirts of Hogsmeade, I think."
And Harry had left Julian Erlichmann behind, the brave spy, the wizard who had saved Tom from the Dementor's Kiss, who had saved them both when creating the portkey, and he couldn't forgive himself, because he had seen that Julian had wanted to escape it all too, to flee from there and from things Harry could not even begin to understand, he was sure, and he had cried out and pleaded, but Julian hadn't taken the portkey with them, but had been left there to battle a friend, it seemed, in the midst of the carnage, under Grindelwald's watchful eyes, in a Ministry that was lost.
He felt such profound, devastating loss that he was choking on emotions and tears.
"Harry!" snapped Tom impatiently and with annoyance, when Harry wailed and wept miserably on his brother's chest. "Get a hold on yourself! It's over, you dimwit!"
The horrors kept swirling in his mind, until Harry took one last, wretched gasp of air, pulling slightly away from his brother, as he bellowed, as he'd never bellowed before, with such ire, savagery, rage and hatred, since it was all because of the war, all because of one man, and he roared fiercely as if being torn to pieces, "I WANT HIM DEAD!"
Tom brusquely pulled him away to stare at him with piercing dark blue eyes, a frown on his face, which was replaced by a look of gauging calculation.
"Very well," then said Tom coolly, taking hold of Harry's chin to wipe the tears off Harry's face with a grimy sleeve, his voice turning low, the look in his skewering gaze intense, as he added sharply, "but first we take everything from him."
Harry stared at that, hiccupping, and blinked, a mite astonished by his brother's unexpected understanding and consent.
"First," continued Tom in a quiet, intense whisper, not letting go of Harry's chin, "we squeeze him for all he's worth, and learn everything he knows. Then, we dispose of him, when we're ready to do so."
Harry gawked and sniffled, before he chocked out thoroughly astounded, "You don't mind? You want Grindelwald dead too?"
"After his usefulness has expired, certainly," retorted Tom calmly. "Why not? I will wish for no rival, after all."
"Rival?" Harry gaped, taken aback, let out his last hiccup, and went mute, not quite knowing what to say, or even if he was understanding his brother correctly.
Tom's grasp on Harry's chin tightened, as he hissed out, "I will help you with that, if you want to get rid of Grindelwald, as long as you understand what it will entail."
"What do you mean?" croaked Harry hoarsely, his gaze locking with his brother's.
Tom pinned him with his eyes, his grip on Harry's face turning harsh, as he whispered sharply, "Remember what I said? That there's no Good or Evil, just Power and those too weak to seek it."
"Yes," murmured Harry, blinking. "But what-"
"Did you like what happened in Norway?" said Tom smoothly, arching an eyebrow at him before his voice turned demanding, "Did you like feeling so impotent, so weak, to have been made a victim by those worthless Norwegian muggles, by the Inferi, by the Dementors-"
"Of course not!" interjected Harry wildly. "I don't ever want to be so unprepared as I was in Norway, but-"
"Then attaining power is the only way, you imbecile!" spat Tom impatiently. "So we're never anyone's victims again, so we're never prey to others, so that we can face any threats and triumph over all enemies! Do you understand now, what I meant about Power?"
Harry stared at him with wide green eyes, before he breathed out slowly, "Yes."
"And do you agree?" demanded Tom harshly, his eyes narrowed to slits.
"Yes," whispered Harry, his chest constricting, his throat turning dry.
"Then we'll help each other, won't we, little brother?" intoned Tom softly, a smirk tilting his lips as he released Harry's face. "And when we're prepared, when the time comes, we'll take action."
Harry nodded jerkily, feeling a bit woozy and dizzy, since he felt this was something momentous, yet couldn't fully wrap his mind around all that he was agreeing to, couldn't quite fathom the extent of what Tom was proposing or inkling at, wasn't quite sure if he actually wanted to know, either.
"Now let's get back home," said Tom curtly, as he grabbed Harry's hand and pulled them up to their feet, throwing the Invisibility Cloak over them.
It was only then when Harry finally took notice of their surroundings, while he quickly pocketed the flute.
The sun was high up in the sky, certainly indicating that it was the same day, now Tuesday afternoon. And apparently, Julian Erlichmann's flute-turned-portkey had indeed taken them to the outskirts of Hogsmeade.
Through the patched cottages and charming stone houses, he could glimpse the villagers placidly walking around on the main street, chatting, window shopping, or entering pubs and stores.
Far away, in the distance, Hogwarts seemed to glow beautifully under the sunlight. Tom was staring at it, with a frown on his face.
"I know how to get there, undetected," whispered Harry, feeling himself wincing since he knew what would be coming.
Tom snapped his head around to frown at him, as he demanded sharply, "How?"
"You'll see," said Harry sighing heavily, preparing himself for what was to come. Yet he had no other choice but to finally reveal it to his brother, he knew. There was no other way into the school.
"Follow me," he said, as he pulled Tom along by the hand, using his other to soothingly pat Ulysses through the material of his jersey, since he felt his Scorcrup shifting underneath, letting soft meows and yips of pain.
"I will fix you soon," whispered Harry, his promise to his familiar, as they left the village behind and began to climb a small hill, Tom casting him puzzled or suspicious looks now and then as he followed Harry in silence.
"What's this?" demanded Tom when they finally stood on top of the hill, before a series of cave openings at all sides, cluttered one on top of the other amidst rocks and boulders.
"Caves," replied Harry, with a shrug of his shoulders.
"I can see that!" snapped Tom irritably. "But why are we-"
"You'll see," said Harry miserably, as he trudged ahead, towards one of the openings.
He knew it all by memory, by now, and faced no hardships as he easily walked through the dark cave's twisting interior until he halted before a large boulder.
Cringing, not wanting to see the look on Tom's face, he hissed, "Open."
The boulder obeyed as it always did, rippling, looking as if it was falling apart, to finally reveal the metallic insides of an enormous pipe.
"What's this!" snarled Tom, instantly rounding on Harry like a seething rattlesnake mid-strike.
Harry said nothing as he entered the pipe, Tom fast on his heels, glancing all around, his brother's expression darkening, turning more furious with every step they took.
"You backstabbing little traitor!" finally spat Tom irately, shooting him a murderous glower. "You never breathed a word to me about this!"
"I was going to tell you, eventually," said Harry defensively, huffing. "I was just waiting for the right time –" he pointed an accusing finger at his brother "- when you wouldn't react like this!"
Wholly ignoring that last bit, Tom thundered enraged, "You've been keeping secrets from me-"
"And so have you, I'm sure!" snapped Harry hotly, lifting his chin up as he crossed his arms over his chest, before he gave him a jaundiced look. "Why do you always go around with your stupid diary in hand, for starters? What are you writing in it, eh?"
Tom stiffened, before he shot him a withering glower and bit out churlishly, "None of your business." His eyes narrowed to slits as he then snarled, "Tell me everything!"
Alas, Harry had no other choice but to do precisely that, and told him much: the fact that he had finished creating his map of Hogwarts ages ago, with the help of Professor Tilly Toke; that at present he had concluded searching the seventh and sixth floors of the castle for an entrance to the Chamber of Secrets; what Nagini had once discovered in the dungeons, the small pipe she had traveled through until encountering a slumbering creature; all the indications Harry had found that made him believe that Slytherin's monster was a Basilisk; the fact that he hadn't been alone when exploring the castle but with Alphard Black-
"You told Black WHAT?" boomed Tom, looking half demented by the end of it.
"I had to," retorted Harry loftily as he dismissively flapped a hand. "He's my best friend, so he deserved to know-"
"Nothing!" snarled Tom furiously, his dark blue eyes flashing. "You twerp! You should have never told him anything at all-"
"He's been helping me to find an entrance to the Chamber," snapped Harry impatiently, shooting him a dirty look, "while you didn't! So yeah, I told him that we're truly Parselmouths and Slytherin's descendants, just like I told him about Grindelwald's letter and the Durmstrang books." He gave him a firm look. "And I don't regret it one bit."
Tom visibly seethed, before he hissed out in a very low, ominous tone of voice, "You'll pay for that."
Utterly unfazed, since Harry had been threatened by his brother a zillion times in the course of their lives, he continued walking calmly.
"What about these?" demanded Tom as he gestured at the nearest torch holder decorated with snake figures.
"I've tried them all, already," replied Harry coolly, "and they revealed nothing."
"Something must have escaped your notice," gritted out Tom, before he eyed the torch holders with a musing expression on his face.
"Maybe," said Harry with a shrug of his shoulders. "You're welcome to try yourself, if you want."
"Oh, I will," snapped Tom shortly, before he went silent as they advanced forward in the gloom of the pipe.
It was nearly half an hour later when Harry finally detected they were inside the castle itself, since he saw its shimmering layers of magic imbuing the pipe.
He then wasted no time in taking Ulysses out of his jersey, as gently as possible, to lay him on the floor.
Without any further ado, Harry whipped out his wand and cast the most powerful Healing spell he knew. Ulysses whined in pain, but as Harry crouched on his knees and carefully prodded his familiar, he detected that the Scorcrup's broken paw had been mended, as well as one of his small ribs that seemed to have been previously cracked.
He cast another spell for full measure before ascertaining that his familiar had regained full health, and tenderly picked Ulysses in his arms.
Giving him a lick of gratitude on a cheek, the Scorcrup then fell asleep, out of sheer exhaustion, by the time Harry and Tom reached the end of the pipe.
"And this?" said Tom quizzically, staring at what stood before them.
Harry didn't bother replying, as he hissed urgently, "Open!"
The back of the Mirror sprung forward as if it were a door, and they both climbed out, Tom glancing around with a gobsmacked expression on his face as he realized he was in the middle of a corridor in Hogwarts.
"Close," hissed Harry quietly, facing the Mirror yet careful of not even giving it a peek.
Tom swirled around at that, just as the Mirror of Desires shifted back into place noiselessly.
"Wait, brother, don't!" cried out Harry, but was too late.
Tom was already standing in front of it, staring at its surface with an entranced expression on his face.
"They are hailing me," breathed out Tom, his dark blue eyes wide, gleaming with triumph, pleasure, and feverish satisfaction. "They are hundred upon hundreds… my followers… my worshipers…"
Harry shot him a bewildered look. "What?"
"I am undefeatable," whispered Tom fervently, his expression both mesmerized and gleeful, "unmatched, and cannot be touched by Death. And you're standing by my side, unflinching, steadfast in your loyalty towards me, you understand what is needed for me to rule the world, and they keep chanting my name, calling me their Lord-"
"Tom!" yelled Harry desperately as he leaped at his brother and forcefully yanked him away from the Mirror, feeling so deeply alarmed and wary that his face had lost all its color.
"What?" snapped Tom irritably, as he turned around to scowl darkly at him.
"What?" echoed Harry incredulously, breathing hard, his heart thundering in his chest as he gestured wildly. "Didn't you hear what you were saying?"
"It shows the future, doesn't it?" said Tom, shooting the Mirror a brief, hungry look.
"No," croaked Harry faintly, as he gestured at the phrase inscribed on the upper frame of the Mirror. "It shows your innermost desires, brother. And you…"
He trailed off, his throat suddenly turning dry, before he heaved a deep, bracing intake of air, locking gazes with Tom, as he said frenziedly, "You were talking about being a Dark Lord!"
"Was I?" said Tom coolly, arching an eyebrow at him.
"Yes!" breathed out Harry haggardly, searchingly gazing at his brother. "You cannot possibly mean it! You cannot possibly want that!" He gestured frantically. "After everything we saw in Norway, all the horrid things Grindelwald has caused, how can you…"
He shook his head violently, a terrible suspicion dawning on him, and he stared at his brother as if he had never seen him before, as he whispered tremulously, "It's what you've been plotting all along, isn't it? With that 'multi-stage plan' of yours that you refused to explain, since first year. With wanting to find the Chamber of Secrets too, to prove that we're Slytherin's heirs. And it's what you meant when you said you wanted power-"
"Of course it is," snapped Tom impatiently, his tone matter-of-fact. "It surprises me that it has taken you so long to finally realize it."
"You've gone mental!" said Harry, his eyes wide and horrified as he took a step backwards. "How can you possibly want to become a Dark Lord – what Grindelwald is, what I despise!"
"I want what he is, and so much more, because I'll be so much greater than he," retorted Tom placidly, a smirk gracing his lips as his eyes flashed, before they skewered Harry intently, his expression turning grave as he added, "You despise him, but you wouldn't despise me, would you, little brother?"
Harry gaped at him. "Tom, you're going bonkers - listen to what you're saying!"
"Or are you suggesting that I don't have what it takes to become a Dark Lord?" spat Tom demandingly, his dark blue eyes narrowing to slits, before he thundered, "I am Slytherin's Heir! What is Grindelwald compared to that? Nothing! And as Slytherin's Heir, it's my birthright to become a Dark Lord if so I wish!"
"I'm Slytherin's Heir too, in case you've forgotten," said Harry heatedly, his voice tinged with fearful desperation, "but you don't see me wishing to become something so ghastly, do you?"
"Good then," retorted Tom coolly, "since I won't want any rivals for the position." He shot him a wide smirk, as he conceded in a magnanimous tone of voice, "But you can be my right-hand man, all Dark Lords have one."
Harry gawked at him before he yelled frantically, "I don't want to be your-"
"You promised!" hissed out Tom as he advanced forward to loom over him, intimidatingly. "You said you understood, that there was no Good or Evil, only power and those too weak to seek it. And you agreed!"
"But I didn't know what you were actually speaking about!" said Harry wildly. "I didn't have the foggiest idea that you were referring to becoming a Dark Lor-"
"We both want power, don't you see?" snapped Tom impatiently, glowering at him. "Our reasons might be different, but not our need!"
"Yes, that's true, but-"
"Do you want Grindelwald dead or not?" demanded Tom in harsh tone of voice, pinning Harry against the opposite wall.
"Yes, of course," said Harry hoarsely, glancing up at his brother with wide, wary eyes, "if I could kill him, I would want to-"
"If you could?" spat Tom viciously. "Who are you depending on to carry your wishes? Dumbledore?" He scoffed contemptuously. "Who sent his minions to the Norwegian Ministry of Magic but didn't dare go himself?" He speared Harry with his gaze, as he bit out sharply, "Don't you see? When you want something to happen, you have to do it yourself –depending on others is being feeble, weak-willed, pathetic!"
"True, but-"
"You promised you would help me," hissed out Tom, harshly grabbing Harry's face to pierce him with a demanding gaze, "to seek power. That's the pact between us and you cannot take it back now. You'll help me to become powerful, and then I'll help you to dispose of Grindelwald. That's our deal." His eyes narrowed to slits, as he spat, "You wouldn't abandon me, would you? I, your own brother."
"No, of course not!" said Harry haggardly, his eyes entreating as he lowered his voice. "But what you want is-"
"Did you promise or not?" snapped Tom irritably, clearly waiting for a swift and firm response.
"Yes," whispered Harry miserably.
"Then say it," bit out Tom unmercifully, pinning him with his gaze.
"Fine," muttered Harry quietly, his shoulder slumping. "We'll seek power, and I'll help you with..."
He trailed off, wincing, but it seemed to be enough for Tom, who smirked at him, looking thoroughly smug and satisfied.
Later, Harry would know that that precise moment was the instant when everything changed. Just as Norway changed them, that second when he agreed, wary, afraid, confused, dismayed, yet so certain he would be able to convince his brother to seek some other path, to discourage him and control him so Tom would never do anything horrible or unforgivable, it was then when it all began, when their lives irredeemably changed and he didn't yet envision how it would all end terribly for them, what his brother would actually become.
At the moment, he felt deeply alarmed and wary, yet still hopeful he could somehow fix it all, that he would be able to make Tom see reason. So he agreed, as one agrees with a loon, just to calm the madness. Because it wasn't that bad -he reassured himself- to become powerful didn't mean to become something as horrible as Grindelwald was. He would never let his brother turn into such a thing, he was then hopeful and confident in that, because he would always be there to steer Tom into the right track. And to have Tom's help in finding a way to dispose of Grindelwald was worth playing along to help his brother with his mad ambitions for a while.
"Someone's coming!" suddenly whispered Tom urgently, as he swirled around. "Cloak, quick!"
Harry heard it too, the sound of hurried footfalls coming from the end of the corridor, as he struggled to find the Invisibility Cloak in his satchel while still holding a sleeping Ulysses cradled on his other arm.
However, he didn't manage it in time. Just as he was about to yank out the Invisibility Cloak, a professor came rushing towards them, wand aimed.
They both froze, still in motion, as they stared at Albus Dumbledore, who seemed to have been sprinting, given the way the wizard was panting loudly. Not to mention that the man looked both frazzled and pained, sorrow clear on his face, for a moment.
Of course, Harry remembered, that the battle in the Norwegian Ministry of Magic had to be over by then, and Dumbledore had apparently been directing his forces from afar, from Hogwarts somehow, perhaps through his phoenix, given the things Grindelwald's voice had said.
Nevertheless, Dumbledore was now staring at them with a look of surprise on his face, which became a frown. For a second, Harry even thought the wizard was suspicious, as the man cast a glance at the Mirror of Desires.
Harry's heart pounded loudly in his chest at that, in sheer agitation, as he wondered how much Dumbledore knew or suspected. About the existence of the tunnel created by Salazar Slytherin behind the Mirror of Desires, about the fact that he and Tom had been away for days in Norway and even present during the battle in the Norwegian Ministry of Magic.
It was impossible to know how much Dumbledore actually knew, and he could only wait, with his heart lodged in his throat, his face pale and feeling utterly dismayed, as the wizard's bespectacled gaze roved over them, eyebrows climbing upwards.
It would come soon, he knew. He and Tom would be expelled.
They both displayed clear indications of having been in a fight, wearing the torn, grimy muggle clothes Harry had looted from the corpses in Namsos, with cuts and bruises on their dirty faces, their hair unwashed and oily, their appearance utterly beaten and disheveled, not to mention the stains of blood and who-knew-what else on their clothes.
"I see you're both fairing better," said Dumbledore, giving them a gentle smile as he pocketed his wand.
Harry nearly gawked at that, utterly astounded and taken aback.
"Finally recovering from your illness, I see," continued Dumbledore calmly.
"What?" croaked Harry, thoroughly flabbergasted. "Illness-"
"Yes, at long last," interjected Tom swiftly, smiling at their Transfiguration Professor.
Harry instantly clamped his mouth shut at that, feeling as if he was standing in quicksand. Though he gladly played along with whatever was happening, as Tom was certainly doing even though they didn't have the slightest idea of what Dumbledore was speaking about - and what the wizard was evidently allowing to admit as the truth.
No one in their right mind, seeing how they looked, would think they were just ill. And yet, for some reason, Dumbledore was clearly willing to allow them to shield themselves behind such silly excuse.
"My brother and I," continued Tom in his most solicitous, polite tone of voice, "thought it would be good for a us to take a walk around the castle, for some fresh air that would aid our recovery."
"Of course," said Albus Dumbledore amicably, as if they were chatting over tea and scones. "I always find that a stroll about the school always does me much good when I'm feeling a mite peaky."
Tom nodded, as he shot the wizard a warm, placid smile. "We'll take our leave now, sir, as it seems we expended our energy in our walk. We should best return to bed -"
"Certainly," said Dumbledore genially, taking a step to allow them a clear path through the corridor, before he peered at them from above the rim of his half-moon spectacles. "I'm sure you'll be up to your feet by tomorrow in what will be a miraculous recovery. Indeed, I would like to have a word with you then." His gaze pinned Harry at this, as he added gently, "After breakfast, if you would, Mr. Riddle. In my office."
Tom paused in mid-step, as he turned to face the wizard. "We'll both be there, Professor."
"Oh no, one of you will suffice," interjected Dumbledore, beaming at them, as he patted Harry on the shoulder. "I wouldn't want to inconvenience both. Just Harry will do."
Harry saw a muscle in Tom's jaw clenching, before his brother returned Dumbledore's innocent smile with one of his own, as he said deferentially, his expression nothing but courteous, "Of course, sir. He'll be there."
"Splendid!" said Dumbledore, clapping his hands together before he shooed them away, like a doting grandfather concerned for their well-being.
The moment they were in some other corridor, far away, making their way to the dungeons, Tom shot Harry a dark look as he hissed viciously, "You better have your wits about you when you meet the old coot. You better not tell him a thing!"
"I won't," muttered Harry under his breath, though his mind was still swirling in utter confusion, trying to make head and tails of what had just happened. He gave his brother a puzzled look. "What do you suppose he was talking about? Our 'illness'?"
"I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," said Tom unconcernedly.
They met no one as they made their way. Evidently, given the hour, all students were still partaking of lunch in the Great Hall, and it was thus, with no hindrances or obstacles, that they finally entered their dormitory.
Neither of them wasted any time in going straight to the bathroom, to bathe away all the grime stuck to their skin and hair. Each in their own tub, the warm, bubbly water felt invigorating as they scrubbed themselves clean, after days of being outright filthy.
Even Ulysses was subjected to it, with many hisses of complain and horror, but Harry was determined as he thoroughly soaped up his familiar, washed him, and finally rubbed him dry with a towel, leaving little Ulysses looking like a ball of puffy fur, with only his green eyes visible in the midst of black fluffiness.
Sighing with pleasure, Harry at long last donned his comfortable pajamas before he emptied the contents of his satchel into his trunk, then leaving the dirty satchel on the floor for the house-elves to find and wash.
Wishing for nothing but to take a long sleep, he yanked the curtains of his bed open.
He jumped in the air and yelped in horror, at what greeted him.
"What's this?" he heard Tom exclaiming at the same time.
Harry wildly glanced at his brother's bed, seeing something much alike to what was in his own bed too.
Tucked under the sheets of their beds, there was one boy in each. If the things could be called persons, at that. They had mops of disarrayed black hair, faces so swollen that the features were hardly recognizable as human, with pustules all over, oozing yellow pus that smelled horribly, and they were snoring loudly, wearing pajamas much like their own.
As he took another step away, Harry gawked in incomprehension, realizing that both their beds seemed to have a shimmering sphere of magic encompassing the things sleeping inside.
"…I'm a free agent, I am not?" suddenly came a voice from outside, along with the sound of several falling footsteps. "I don't see why 'Burga has to screech at me every time I glance at someone else-"
"Cousin, it's because you go around trifling with-"
"I'm nearly fourteen, Alphie, I will damn well flirt if it pleases me, before I'm shackled into a marriage I don't want, just because our parents wish to join the two Black lines-"
"Do cease your lamentations, Orion," drawled an icy voice, "it's getting tedious-"
"You're one to talk, Abraxas! You're not too thrilled about your engagement with the German chit either! You complain often enough that the Von Krauss girl is two years your elder and-"
Jus then, the door of their dormitory was flung open, as Harry could do nothing but stand there in the middle of the room, too confused to do anything else, as their roommates waltzed inside: Abraxas Malfoy looking irked beyond measure, Alphard exasperated, Neron Lestrange bored, Thaddeus Avery munching on some sugary pastry for dessert, and Orion Black looking indignant and deeply offended.
Harry stared at them, just as the boys halted in their tracks and stared back at him and Tom, such a mesh of expressions on their faces that it was impossible to discern them all.
"You're back!" breathed out Alphard, the first to come out of his astonishment as he rushed towards Harry.
The boy looked outright perturbed and worried as his grey eyes roved over Harry, inspecting him closely, before he said highly distressed, "You look awful! What happened to you?"
Harry blinked at him. "Er…" Not quite knowing what to say, he resolved to first get some answers, and he wildly gestured at the thing in his bed. "What's that!"
"Oh!" said Alphard, perking up as he widely grinned at him. "That's you, of course! And the other is your brother, as well."
Harry stared in utter puzzlement. "What?"
"You told me to cover for you, for your absence, remember?" said Alphard quickly. "And I did!"
"Now, now, Alphard, not trying to get all the credit, are you?" drawled Abraxas Malfoy as he coolly sauntered towards them.
Soon, Harry found himself standing in the middle of the room with Tom, with Alphard by his side and the other boys circling them, their expressions both demanding and incredulous.
"I'm not!" snapped Alphard defensively, rounding on Malfoy. "But you had no business sticking your nose in-"
"If it wasn't for me," interjected Abraxas sharply, his silvery eyes narrowing, "you wouldn't have known what to do."
"That's not true," bit out Alphard incensed, huffing. "Dorea would have-"
"Will someone explain matters, now!" hissed out Tom, his voice a whiplash.
Abraxas Malfoy turned around to face him, a wide smirk on his face. "Why, it's very simple, Riddle. We saved you from expulsion. You owe me much."
"Owe you?" said Tom coolly, arching an eyebrow as if calmly waiting to be enlightened.
"He eavesdropped!" piped in Alphard angrily, pointing an accusing finger at Abraxas as he shot Harry an entreating look. "I was frantic, because by Sunday you still hadn't returned and I didn't know what to do. I had told people that you and your brother had gotten sick, but Monday was coming and with it our lessons, and you still hadn't appeared, and the teachers would realize that you were missing!"
"Alright," said Harry slowly, trying to figure things out. "So you…"
"I went to Dorea!" continued Alphard hurriedly, looking frazzled. "I had to, Harry, I could think of no one else that could help and keep their mouths shut. And you've always said that you trust her, so-"
"I do," said Harry firmly, before he tilted his head to a side in sheer wonder. "But what-"
"What happened is that Abraxas-" Alphard turned to glare at Malfoy "-was spying on me." He huffed irritably as he shot Harry a pointed look. "You know how he's been, always following us around, trying to see what we were up to, always spying on you-"
"Indeed?" said Tom sharply, his dark blue eyes narrowed to slits as his gaze darted from Malfoy to Harry and back.
Harry swallowed thickly at that. "Er, Tom, I forgot to tell you something-"
"Don't tell me you've been keeping such secrets from your dear twin?" Abraxas chuckled nastily as he widely smirked at Tom, his expression superior and rejoicing. "Tut, tut, very bad brother, Harry. You haven't told him about all the times we've spoken? All the things you revealed to me-"
"I beg your pardon?" snarled Tom, his eyes flashing, such fury in them that Harry's scar throbbed and felt as if it was about to split open.
"He's lying!" yelled Harry desperately. "I told him nothing-"
"You dare claim that we haven't spoken on several occasions?" drawled Abraxas silkily, looking as if he was vastly enjoying pitting brother against brother and further rising Tom's hackles.
"He approached me," clarified Harry instantly, shooting Tom a look pleading for understanding and belief. "And I told him nothing!" He scowled with annoyance. "He figured everything out for himself!"
"Figured what out?" demanded Tom harshly, his voice low and very ominous.
"We'll get there," said Abraxas placidly, widely smirking at them all. "The point is, Riddle, that I overheard Alphard here-" he indolently gestured at the aforementioned boy who looked outright agitated "-babbling with Dorea, asking for her help, and I, of course, offered the solution."
"He didn't overhear!" snapped Alphard hotly. "He was spying, and suddenly came into the room where I was speaking in confidence to my aunt." He shot Harry a wild glance. "He offered the solution because the prat had been keeping your blood!"
"My what?" croaked Harry faintly, feeling very dismayed as he suddenly began to realize what must have happened.
"Yes, from when he made you cut the palm of your hand to prove you weren't a golem," said Alphard swiftly. "You told me about that, remember?" He shot Abraxas a glare. "Well, the git kept the blood of the dagger you returned to him!"
"Honestly, Riddle," drawled Abraxas in a taunting tone of voice as he smirked at Harry, "you really should know better than to give someone else your blood. So many injurious things can be done against a wizard with their blood."
Harry went completely pale, as Tom murderously glared at him given all the revelations, while Malfoy's smirk widened, before the boy clucked his tongue mockingly. "There's no reason to fear now, since I decided to employ the blood to aid you and your brother. Indeed, it will prove to be much more useful to have you both indebted to me."
"Indebted, are we?" then said Tom calmly, apparently having instantly recovered his cool composure.
"I fear you are," murmured Alphard sorrowfully. "Abraxas was the one of the idea to use Harry's blood to make golems." He heaved a deep breath, as if to gain courage, before he added in a more cheerful tone of voice, "And Dorea knew the spell to make them! It's a very complicated one, but she knows stuff like that." He rolled his eyes with exasperation as the muttered under his breath, "Read nearly all the books in our family's library she has-"
"Get to the point, Black," snapped Tom commandingly, his tone of voice very brisk and vicious.
Harry shot him an annoyed glare at that, for the sake of his best friend, though Alphard looked utterly undaunted as the boy continued hastily, "Well, Dorea made a golem for Harry." He then blinked at them, cocking his head to a side. "She thought she would also be able to make one of you, Tom, with Harry's blood since you're twins, but it didn't work for some reason-"
"Because we're not identical twins," bit out Tom irritably. "Obviously that was the cause, you fool."
Alphard stared at him, before he shrugged his shoulders as he mumbled, "I suppose that could be it." He abruptly grinned at them devilishly. "Well, the point is that she ended up making another golem of Harry and just cast some spells at it to make it look more like you, Tom – glamours and such, you know."
The boy took several steps to reach their beds, as he gestured demonstratively at the things lying under the sheets, with pulsing, oozing pustules. "And then she cast a Dark Curse on them – a very nasty one that makes the victim experience the symptoms of Spattergroit."
"Spatter-what?" Harry stared at him in utter bewilderment.
"Your ignorance never ceases to astonish, Riddle," intoned Abraxas Malfoy scathingly, his tone superior as he carried on to clarify. "Spattergroit is a magical illness-"
"That causes muteness and the eruption of pustules, that comes as unexpectedly as it goes, and can be lethal," interjected Tom in a sharp tone of voice, a musing frown on his face. "Which is highly infectious, but has no cure. It can only be waited out until it vanishes by itself."
"Precisely, Riddle," drawled Abraxas pleasantly. "Which is why-"
"You thought it would be the perfect excuse," interrupted Tom coolly. "Yes, I see."
And Harry finally understood too, that Spattergroit must have been the 'illness' Dumbledore had mentioned. Though he was still a mite perplexed by the whole affair.
"And it was believed?" he said, glancing at his best friend hopefully.
Alphard winked at him, looking mightily proud of himself. "Yes, it was. I told Slughorn that you and Tom were bedridden with it, and that was why you couldn't come to class." He chortled happily under his breath. "Old Sluggie wouldn't even come into our bedroom, so scared he was of catching it himself! He sent Miss Nightingale instead."
Harry blanched, his eyes widening with wariness, as he said both incredulous and afraid, "And she didn't suspect?"
"I thought she would," said Alphard, looking uneasy as if recalling the emotions he had experienced at the time, "being a Mediwitch and all-"
"Nightingale noticed nothing," said Neron Lestrange suddenly, his deep voice snide and harsh. "The stupid halfblood has been bawling her eyes out and barely paid attention to the golems." With meaty hand, he gestured at their beds. "She just cast wards to keep the infection contained, so that we wouldn't suffer contagion."
Harry nearly gawked at the boy. For Neron Lestrange to be giving him and Tom explanations was the epitome of being nice for someone like Lestrange, who had bullied him, pranked him cruelly, always shown his clear loathing of him for being a 'filthy mudblood', and even tried to attack him on several occasions in the past.
And now, Harry noticed, that it was not only Lestrange, but Thaddeus Avery and Orion Black too, who were simply observing them as if reserving judgment, who were letting Malfoy and Alphard do all the explanations, without hurling out insults.
"Yes, it worked," piped in Alphard, "because Miss Nightingale was very preoccupied with other things." He heaved a deep breath as he gazed at Harry with a sorrowful expression on his face. "So many things have happened while you were gone. Miss Nightingale is a mess because Professor Toke has gone missing, Harry!"
"He has?" said Harry, his throat suddenly turning dry, yet he spoke in the best stunned tone of voice he could muster, especially since Tom had shot him a very harsh look of warning.
"Yes," mumbled Alphard, looking highly distressed, as if he expected Harry to crumble with the news of the disappearance of his favorite teacher. "No one really knows what happened to him, Harry. Aurors even came to the school to interrogate students and the staff-"
"Aurors?" snapped Tom, his body abruptly stiffening.
However, no one seemed to realize it but Harry, since Alphard continued in just a mournful tone of voice, "Yes, they came here on Monday, asking all sorts of questions about Tilly Toke – what we had seen him doing, if he had said anything about any intentions of leaving Hogwarts, and the like."
"And yesterday," interjected Orion Black, looking excited as if wanting to unravel some intriguing mystery, "an article in the Daily Prophet said that one of their sources in the Ministry had found records of Toke buying a portkey to some muggle town in Norway, called Binge or something of the sort."
"It's rumored," said Thaddeus Avery in his gruff voice, chuckling contemptuously, "that the idiot went to Norway to help some filthy muggle friends of his."
Neron Lestrange guffawed at that. "Probably with his sights on getting another Order of Merlin, the fool."
"Indeed, he disappeared on Saturday, apparently," intoned Abraxas Malfoy smoothly, yet he was pinning Tom and Harry with his gaze, as his pale blond eyebrows quirked upwards. "Precisely on the same day you left Hogwarts. Such a coincidence, is it not?"
Tom executed an excellent performance of chuckling mockingly at the boy. "Do you believe Toke came to ask for our assistance in saving some Norwegian muggle friends?"
"Mayhap, not for that," said Abraxas loftily, yet his gaze became all the more intense with suspicions. "Perchance, it was the other way around - you asking him for aid."
"For what purpose would that have been?" said Tom chortling, looking as if he was vastly enjoying the entertainment provided by Malfoy's ridiculous ideas.
"You tell us, Riddle," said Abraxas sharply, his silvery eyes narrowing to slits. "Where were you for the past three days?"
"Apparently you have no problems in tricking my brother into giving information," said Tom calmly, though there was a vicious hint of threat in his tone. "You will not find me such an easy target. You should learn to mind your own business, Malfoy."
"I didn't give him any information!" snapped Harry hotly, bristling in his need to defend himself.
"You obviously let some things slip," snarled Tom at him, furiously yet also quietly, so that they couldn't be overheard since they were still standing next to each other.
Orion Black was gazing at them with wide grey eyes, as he breathed out eagerly, "Is it true, then, what Abraxas says?"
"What does he say?" Tom swirled around to face the boy, his eyes narrowed to slits.
"That you're both Parselmouths," said Neron Lestrange sharply, his own eyes narrowing, his lips twisting. "That you're actually Salazar Slytherin's descendants. That you don't have muggle parents, but that you're orphans instead, halfbloods."
Only Harry detected how his brother stilled for a brief second, before relaxing his body. Only he noticed that Tom shot him a seething look that promised dire revenge, before his brother seemed to be doing some quick thinking and heavy plotting, weighing his options, trying to decide what reaction would suit his purposes best.
"That you," said Thaddeus Avery, blinking dumbly at Harry, "have been looking for the Chamber of Secrets, with Alphie's help. But it's just a legend, isn't it? So I don't understand…"
"I didn't tell them a word!" whispered Alphard urgently by Harry's side, cringing. "After we made the golems, Abraxas went around the whole House, telling every Slytherin the things he knew about you and your brother. I didn't realize it until later or I would've stopped him. You must believe me!"
"I do, don't worry," mumbled Harry distractedly, utterly thrown off balance and shocked by the unexpected turn in things.
He didn't understand why Malfoy could have done something like that. Not because the boy had promised to keep his mouth shut if Harry himself didn't tell Tom about their conversations. He knew better than to trust Malfoy's promises. It was simply because he didn't see what Malfoy would gain by telling everyone in Slytherin House the secrets he knew about them.
"The point is not if it's true," drawled Abraxas, his gaze locked with Tom's in what seemed to be a battle of undercurrents and silent negotiations. "The point is if they can prove it." He then smirked at Harry and Tom, his expression challenging and hard. "You have no choice now, the whole House will be waiting for you to validate the claims. You either prove that you're Slytherin's Heirs by finding the Chamber of Secrets and bringing me there as a witness-" his smirk widened in Tom's direction "-as I know you were plotting on doing anyway. Or you fail, and you'll be forever despised and mocked for being nothing but lying mudbloods who dared pretend to be Parselmouths and Slytherin by blood."
"Is that all that I will gain when I succeed?" said Tom placidly, quirking an eyebrow.
Abraxas chuckled wryly. "Why, Riddle, you and I understand each other perfectly well, I believe. You must know that I will demand a substantial favor in repayment for having thought of a way of excusing your absence from classes, as well as for bearing witness to the fact if you're indeed Slytherin's Heirs, if and when you do find the Chamber of Secrets. Just as I believe you fully know what will come to happen if you do prove it. You must know how our housemates will react to the presence of verified descendants of Salazar Slytherin."
The smirk Tom shot at Abraxas was a nasty, vicious thing, filled with satisfaction, smugness, and lingering menace.
And Harry thought that either Malfoy was too much of a fool not to see it, or was so stupidly self-assured and knew Tom so little and underestimated him so much that the boy didn't feel threatened or perturbed by it.
"Very well," said Tom pleasantly, before he waved a hand as if dismissing peasants from his sight. "Now leave, I would like a word in private with my brother."
"We'll talk further on another occasion, then," interjected Abraxas in a drawling, indolent tone of voice, as if wanting to emphasize that he would be leaving out of his own accord and not because he was obeying any orders given by those inferior to him. "I have my own business to attend to now."
And with that, the boy swept out of the room, his friends, Orion Black, Thaddeus Avery and Neron Lestrange, at his heels, yet giving Harry and Tom parting glances filled with challenging disbelief, fury at the presumption of their claims, and yet also a sort of breathless expectation for the possibility that it might all be true.
Only Alphard lingered behind, looking sheepish and awkward, shifting from one foot to the other.
"You too, Black. Out!" spat Tom, all pretense of coolness or faked placid amiability vanishing now that only Harry's best friend was left.
Alphard, seeming to infuse himself with valor, glowered at Tom, before he stepped forward to stand in front of Harry.
"There're other things I have to tell you," said the boy with a hint of apprehension.
"First," said Harry, warmly smiling at Alphard before he hugged him tightly, ignoring how his scar suddenly flared with pain, as he whispered into his friend's ear, "Thanks for everything. When I asked you to cover for us, I didn't imagine that it would have to be for days or all what you would have to do."
Alphard beamed at him as they pulled away, before he shrugged it off, displaying a very characteristic, carefree sort of humbleness, though he was still grinning with pleasure. "No gratitude required, it wasn't that hard." He suddenly looked uneasy, as he added, "In fact, Dorea did most of it. And, um, that's what I have to tell you. She…" He trailed off, before he took a deep breath of air and rushed out quickly, "She said to tell you, when you came back, that you owe her too and that she knows exactly what she's going to ask of you to repay the favor, and that the moment you're back, you must go talk to her."
Harry blanched, knowing Dorea was a girl to be feared and taken very seriously.
"Do you know what she wants in return?" he asked very warily.
"I think I do," chirped Alphard, for some reason grinning toothily and looking extremely joyful. "And I hope you'll agree!"
Harry gave him a mystified look at that, but Alphard was already upon another subject, the boy whispering under his breath, "By the way, I was intercepted by Charlus Potter and he asked me if we're done with his Invisibility Cloak."
Alphard was staring at him with a puzzled and curious expression on his face.
"Bloody hell," breathed out Harry, startled. "I had forgotten about that!" He shot his friend a frenzied look. "You didn't tell him that-"
"Oh, I figured out rather quickly that you must have lied to him," said Alphard, waving a hand dismissively, "and used me as an excuse. I just told him that you were sick with Spattergroit and thus couldn't speak, so you couldn't tell me where you had stuck the Cloak when we were done with it." He gave him a worried look. "But I did promise that you would return it to him when you were feeling better. You do have it, don't you?"
Harry stared at him for a moment, before fondness for his friend surged in him with full, blazing power.
For a second, he had thought Alphard would be angry for having been used, but of course that his friend understood. Alphard was a Black and had been sorted in Slytherin, after all. The boy knew how useful lies could be to get what one wanted, he wasn't clueless regarding manipulations and evidently didn't feel offense.
Harry beamed at him, as he nodded. "Yeah, I got it. I will give it to him tomorrow."
"Perfect," said Alphard, looking vastly relieved as he grinned. Then he frowned concernedly, as he added in a decisive tone of voice, "I'll tell Dorea you'll speak to her tomorrow too, because you sure look as if you need some rest." He patted Harry on the back. "Get some sleep, you'll need it in these days. You've missed a lot in class and in homework!"
And with a cheery wave of his hand, Alphard trotted out of the room, clearly very quickly in order to be spared any of Tom's anger.
"You have much to explain regarding Malfoy," hissed out Tom instantly the moment they were finally alone. "But first, show me your map of Hogwarts. And then, we'll make plans."