A lot of you guys have expressed worries that Tom is too dominant, and that they're not equal enough, and I'll admit to a certain extent that is true and the two (ooh, rhyme) are working on it…but here's a question for you: To name just a few, do you not count the fact that Tom allows Harry to attempt equality, or to act disrespectful or fight back as a concession in itself? Voldemort considers the rights of his Death Eaters to be subject to his own approval, or so Canon suggests. Just cause Tom's concessions may not be highlighted, doesn't mean he doesn't give them - after all, can any of you imagine Tom giving obvious concessions anyway?
Chapter 94:
Dumbledore studied him for a moment, head tilted back, before gesturing that he should go on. Harry took a deep breath to steel himself, before obliging.
"I have the rest of the year to stop Tom from becoming Voldemort; preferably without deleting this time line, and I want you to help me - to the very best of your ability. I do not have your experience, nor your skill in magic, nor access to rare books, so your unimpeded assistance would be very much appreciated, and you certainly will not get in my way."
"And the deal aspect of this?" Dumbledore questioned, calmly, blue eyes glinting above a steeple of interlaced fingers. "What do you intend to offer me in return for my help?"
"If I fail, if the clock hits zero and Voldemort is still here, as he is now…I will willingly and without question submit myself to fulfilling your plan to destroy him. You won't get any fight out of me. I will perform whatever you ask of me." He eyed the Headmaster, trying to gauge how this was being taken. "We both want him gone. We should naturally be on the same side."
Dumbledore studied him for a moment longer, in total silence.
"I think it would be best if you explained exactly what the situation is," he instructed. Harry arched a brow.
"Do we have a deal or not?" he asked, holding out a hand, demandingly, his own eyes glittering.
Dumbledore could take lesson in his own secret medicine. The Headmaster's lips pursed.
"What level of binding are you planning - oath, vow?"
"Unbreakable," Harry said flatly.
A flicker of shock appeared on the other's features, before growing calculating, a hand extended out to go through the motions.
"Then I believe we need a bonder, my boy."
Harry rubbed his eyes, feeling exhausted from his late night excursion.
He dropped into his customary seat next to Tom, wondering if Alphard was aware that he'd heaved a visible breath of relief.
The Glamour was firmly in place once more, the bruises not likely to fade for at least a few days. He felt Tom's eyes flick to his cheek, then up to his eyes, assessing, before back to his own plate - toast, as usual.
He could just feel the other Slytherin's practically dying of curiosity about yesterday's events. He smiled in greeting, and said good morning to Pansy as she swept by, causing the girl to smile shyly back.
Tom's eyes narrowed on her for a moment, before he disregarded Parkinson, or seemed to. Breakfast continued without much kerfuffle, though he did notice that Tom's gaze kept flicking to his face…and to the Glamour.
He hoped the other was feeling really bothered by it, vindictive as that was.
"Harry Potter?" a voice asked, light and clear.
Harry blinked, before turning around on his seat. The hall grew marginally subdued as everyone nearby stared at the dirty blonde girl, with - were those radishes? - swinging from her ears.
"Er, yeah, um-" Harry didn't get any further, his head whipping to a side as she slapped him across the cheek.
The surrounding Slytherins all had their wands out in an instant, but Harry just stared, and the girl smiled brightly at him, an apology tucking her mouth.
"That was from Fate," she said dreamily. "And this is from Luck."
Without a second's warning, her lips were briefly, gently, pressing onto his own. They tasted of apples. Then the kiss was gone, and she promptly walked a way back to the…Ravenclaw table?
Without another word.
Or any explanation.
Absently, he pushed Tom's wand down, knowing the other's would follow suit with their leader, his hand tracing his lip and cheek.
He'd met her before…he knew. But where? Lena? Lucy? LUNA! Was her name Luna? Loony? Loony Luna? He tilted his head.
The carriages. He'd met her on the carriages. He blinked.
Fate and Luck?
Without another word, he began to rise from his seat, only for Tom to yank him back down, staring at him.
"You're not going after her - she's psychotic," the Slytherin Heir stated. Harry stared after her, thoughtfully.
"So are you," he reminded, still distracted.
"It was a figure of speech," Tom snapped. "She's crazy…Fate and Luck? Really? Honestly, Golden Boy, I thought higher of you."
"Yeah…flattered," Harry replied vaguely, waving a hand, before turning to look at Draco, sitting off away from Tom, but next to Abraxas. "Do you know who she is?"
Draco frowned, glancing at Tom.
"Luna Lovegood," he said finally. "She's a complete freak. Her father runs some crackpot rag paper called 'The Quibbler.'"
"She's not in our year…?"
"Does it matter?" Abraxas questioned, a careful lilt to his tone. "She's hardly worth your time."
"Come on, she slapped you, she's a bloody nut job," Alphard added.
"She kissed me..."
"Well, now I know what catches your attention," Tom muttered darkly. "Next time, I'll just kiss you too, shall I?"
Harry's head snapped a round again, away from their lingering perusal of the Ravenclaw table.
"What d'you just say?"
"He answers," Tom deadpanned. Harry scowled.
"Shut up…I just…" he shook his head, irritated, glancing at the Luna Lovegood once more.
A slap from Fate and a kiss from Luck?
He had to talk to her.
Was Harry really that oblivious?
His Lord looked utterly furious with the attention he was playing the Lovegood girl…although…not so much that he was paying attention to her, but that Harry was kind of ignoring him to do it.
Alphard's stomach twisted with anxiety.
Sure, Harry had turned back and continued conversation NOW, but, damn - was Harry really that oblivious? Truly?
It was probably more likely that the half Gryffindor was exercising his Lion side and doing it on purpose because he knew the effect he was having…why else would he have been staring at that random girl so…thoughtfully?
And what was that about anyway? A slap from Fate and a kiss from Luck?
Ridiculous.
Harry sat with Ron and Hermione in Charms; he hadn't had the opportunity to track down…Luna, yet. Ron had smirked at him when he came over, and Fred and George had dived in when they saw him at lunch, nudging his sides and winking and being suggestive. Hermione had looked at him…worriedly?
"Hey," he greeted, dropping into a seat.
"Did you get the homework?" Ron demanded immediately, looking put out. "Hermione did, of course, but I don't have a clue what to write about why it's so difficult to create charms that are portable - people do it on stuff like trunks that can be made to shrink, be light and grow all the time - it can't be that hard!"
"Oh honestly, Ronald," Hermione huffed. "I told you; charms are tied to certain properties, and being portable changes the properties and-"
"But that doesn't make any sense!" Ron groaned. "Harry, do you get it?"
"Um," Harry said.
Normally, before Tom, he would have lied and said "no" even if he meant yes. Then Tom practically freaked and was hell to be around when he 'dumbed himself down.'
But….no. Ron looked miserable already.
"Didn't have a clue," he said. "Tom helped me out."
He figured they weren't liable to ask and check, the avoided the Slytherin Heir if they could.
"He helps you with your homework?"
Harry couldn't decide if Hermione sounded pleased, or completely put out and little sad or resentful.
He shrugged.
"'Help' mainly consists of him insulting me whenever I do it wrong," he said dryly. "And stealing it to write scathing comments and corrections across it in blazing red ink."
It was true, from the few…one…time he'd actually got Tom to give him a hand, a while back.
Tom was a brutal teacher when he didn't bother being moderate about it, though Harry should have expected that considering Tom had taught him Dark Arts by using them on him so he had to learn all the counters to avoid being permanently mutilated, and then after a while he just started learning the spells themselves to keep up with the other and not get mutilated in the first place.
Then, as he'd improved, they'd settled into a rather…challenging but equal….duelling practice.
Tom beat him on Dark Arts alone, easily, but Harry found his duelling got extremely good when he mixed Dark and Light spells into his style simultaneously.
Tom wasn't that good with actual 'light' spells, in fact, he seemed almost incapable of casting them.
"That's awful!" Hermione seemed outraged. Just as well he'd only ever skimmed over how he learned to duel and heal so well. He shrugged again.
"He finds it frustrating when us mere mortals can't keep up with him. I'd love to see you to go up against each other, Hermione," he smirked. "You're both geniuses."
"I couldn't beat him," Hermione said quietly, suddenly subdued.
Ron frowned, and Harry looked at her sharply.
"Hey, why the defeated tone?" Ron questioned, with an almost uncharacteristic gentleness. "You're brilliant Hermione! - Remember Lupin, brightest witch of your age!"
Hermione smiled shakily.
"Yeah, but he's brilliant too. And he…I…he knows spells I haven't even heard of! I talked to him in Grimmauld you know, and felt completely stupid with all this stuff and theories he was coming out with."
Harry paused, before a smirk tugged at his lips.
"You know," he began, "Tom's perfectly aware I think you're utterly brilliant…he could have just started on that stuff, which if it's Dark you would have no reason to know, because he viewed you as a threat. He was probably trying to judge the depth of your intelligence...did you reply to his questions?" Harry asked, patiently.
"Yes," Hermione said, tugging a hand through her hair, "but I sounded completely lame and bluffing it, most likely."
"Most people would stare at him blankly, with their mind on freeze, unable to even reply."
"Oh…" Hermione said.
Harry smiled, dryly.
"Take him up on a conversation about light magic sometime. He's scarily smart, but not omniscient."
Tom was already in the Room of Requirement when he entered for Occlumency.
"Got a question before we start," he said, without preamble.
"It better not be about the blonde girl,."
"It's not about Luna…do you even know anything about her? I don't, and it's my time period!"
"Just ask the question already," Tom instructed, sounding bored. Harry rolled his eyes.
"My someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, anyway, it's the 31st tomorrow, and I'm a bad friend who hasn't got you a birthday present yet, but that's cause you're impossible to buy for, and you seemed more inclined to want a favour anyway…? So, what do you want?"
Tom's head tilted, and he actually looked vaguely interested this time.
It was an improvement. Tom staring at him with utter boredom and disinterest when he talked was an infuriating feeling.
"I presume you'll flat out refuse if I say I want you to accept that I'll turn into Voldemort?"
"You presume correctly," Harry said, a little tightly. "Pick something else."
"What, until I find something you want to give?"
"No, until it's something that you actually genuinely want," Harry said.
Tom regarded him sharply.
"And what makes you think I don't want you to accept I'll turn into Voldemort?"
"The fact you let it drop so easily," Harry stated calmly. Tom's jaw tightened.
"Nonetheless, you should accept that anyway," he said quietly.
Harry shook his head, walking over and dropping onto his sofa.
"And give up my title as the master of Denial? Ha, I'll pass," he said flippantly.
Tom stared at him for a moment, before smirking.
"You're talking a lot with your pet lions again, I note?"
"Yes," Harry agreed, feeling a little warily.
"They're your friends? You trust them?"
"With my life," Harry said, chin jutting up a bit. Tom's smirk broadened.
"Then show them the mark on your arm. Hell, stop covering it."
Harry took a deep breath.
Damn it.
"You're calling that in as your birthday present?"
"Yes….or should I 'pick something else'?" Tom challenged.
Harry sighed. He should back down from that. He didn't want to do this. But. But…
"So long as you don't expect me to wear t-shirts althrough winter. It's bloody cold."
A/N: So, a day early…but your reviews thrilled me so much. Just in case you want to know, and a lot of you seem to, yes I can envision a happy ending to this, if that's the way I'm choosing to go (spoilers, I might be, I might not.) Any of you lot figured out my potential solution? ;)
Not sure if I liked the chapter or not though.