AN: Aloha, here goes. Thank you for all the reviews, sorry it's been a while. I would give you an amazing, valid excuse…but I don't have one. Enjoy - The Fictionist.

Chapter 14

Harry walked down to breakfast, yawning behind his hand and arguing with Ron over the undeniable failure of the Chudley Cannons. They had lost every game in the season and his best friend STILL insisted that they were amazing. Honestly. Some people were simply beyond help. As they entered the hall, he waved goodbye and headed over to the Slytherin table. He loved Gryffindor, and Ron, dearly but he couldn't stand to see such awful table manners this early in the morning. It worked either way. Breakfast - Slytherin, Dinner - Gryffindor and Lunch with whoever he felt like if he bothered with the meal. Sometimes he just took the time to train.

He collapsed into his customary seat between Tom and Zevi, helping himself to a coffee.

'You know, it's really not healthy to just drink caffeine in the mornings,' Tom remarked. He raised a brow, taking another deliberate gulp of said drink. Alphard rolled his eyes.

'Since when have you cared about my health?' he returned. 'Is there a special occasion that I don't know about?'

'Does there have to be a special occasion for me to care about you, and your wellbeing?'

He regarded the heir of Slytherin with a highly suspicious look.

'Yes,' he said after a moment. His almost laughed when his blunt statement caused Zevi to choke on his waffle.

'Harry!' Abraxas hissed furiously. Those silver eyes begged him to please shut the hell up, lest he annoy the great snake lord himself. He ignored the look. Salazar knew he'd received it enough from his fellow Slytherins, Tom, Imogen and Roger…okay, the whole school, more times then he could actually count. He'd considered keeping a tally, but by a thousand and twenty three he just couldn't be bothered anymore. Not to mention, Tom, in a fit of rage at his blatant insubordination had ripped the tally sheet up, and he didn't want to redo it…but that was a different story entirely. Tom laughed softly, attracting and ignoring the attention of one Daphne Greengrass. Harry frowned.

'I was being serious. Do you want something? Because if this is you trying to get me to join you in another diabolical, crazy scheme of yours it's not going to work…'

Tom smirked.

'Relax little lion,' the Slytherin heir mocked, wrapping an arm around his shoulders for a moment.. 'You're so paranoid.'

'It's not paranoia if everyone really is out to get you!' he shrugged the arm off.

Alphard grinned, flicking a cornflake looking thing in his direction.

'Harry dearest, it's still paranoia if people are out to get you. Remember the golden rule: Tom is always right.'

Tom had a distinctively smug gleam to his eye at that statement.

'Guys, don't encourage him - and don't even get me started on the whole golden rule!'

'Seriously though,' Tom pierced him with one of his intense appraisals, 'you need to eat.'

He sighed, snatching Tom's toast from his plate (disregarding the looks of utter horror and the indignant show-some-respect sounds from the others) and taking a big, defiant bite. He met Tom's gaze.

'Satisfactory?' he questioned. Riddle frowned.

'There's a whole rack of toast on the table, and you just had to take mine.'

He innocently offered the offending food item in Tom's direction, smirking at the future Dark Lord's look of revulsion. 'I don't want it after it's been in your mouth!'

'You don't want what after it's been in who's mouth?' Lestrange asked, approaching the table, finally up from his bed.

'Tom's toast after Harry bit it,' Alphard said in a matter of fact tone of voice. 'You're missing quite the domestic drama here.' The young Black heir paled slightly as him and Tom both turned to look at him. 'Not that, um, you two are, I mean,' he stammered helplessly for a moment. Harry decided to take pity on the boy and looked away. The moment passed.

'Domestic is totally Tom and Cygnus,' he smirked, before yelping. 'OW! Tom!' his hand rose instinctively to touch the back of his head. 'You could kill someone with that book bag.'

'Well done, chosen one, you just figured out my - what was it? - diabolical, crazy scheme,' Tom continued to calmly eat his breakfast. He narrowed his eyes.

'Don't call me that,' he hissed. Tom looked up slightly at the parseltongue.

'Stop whining, it's unbecoming,' he replied.

It was, overall, an uneventful breakfast.

Then Cygnus spilt scalding hot coffee all over him.

___

'Sh*t,' he hissed as the brown liquid immediately burnt his skin.

'Language!' Tom snapped. He stared at the future Dark Lord for a brief moment - he was getting riled up over his language?! - before focussing on the more immediate threat of hot caffeine.

'Oops,' Lestrange sneered, widening his eyes. 'I'm so sorry, Harry!'

Yeah, right. Bastard did it on problem. He cleaned it with a flick of his wand, no damage done to anything except his…and apparently Tom's mood.

'I'm sure,' he said coldly. The rest of the Slytherin's had gone very still. Lestrange hadn't power played him in a long while - why now? Whatever. He didn't care. Still, feeling slightly unnerved at the sheer menace in the other boy's gaze, he grabbed his bag, his magic crackling, as the bell rang to signal classes.

___

'What's wrong, Harry?' Hermione asked. He glanced at her, startled, then realised that he'd been staring at the same page of his transfiguration text for the last couple of minutes. He shook his head, presumably to clear it, and offered his friend a smile.

'It's nothing. I'm just tired and dealing with some snake house mumbo rubbish,' he dismissed. Hermione looked at him in concern.

'Punch Riddle in the face, mate,' Ron commented idly.

'It's actually not Tom I have a problem with, for once,' he sighed.

'Turn Malfoy into a ferret then.'

He didn't know whether to laugh or be annoyed at his best friend's assumptions.

'Lestrange, Ron,' he said. Not really sure why he was bothering with the conversation at all. It wasn't like Ron understood the political power plays of the snake house. To him, the coffee would be an annoyance, but nothing significant. Life was so simple when he hadn't exercised his green side. In Gryffindor, you knew if someone had a problem with you because they tended to say it straight out to your face. Slytherin, however…was a different matter entirely. He sighed, his scar prickling unpleasantly.

A black hawk swooped in through the window.